


The Road to Light

by Arcawolf



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, 500 Word Chapters, F/M, Memory Loss, Not Oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 99
Words: 49,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcawolf/pseuds/Arcawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a brutal fight, an amnesic Aqua wakes with nothing but her name and a masked boy claiming to be her friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

She awoke, head pounding and dark specks dancing in her vision.

Sand blew across the ground in a dusty cloud, sending grit into her eyes and making them tear up. The world was barren, silent, and she couldn’t recall how she had gotten here, or why it hurt so much to move.

It took three tries before she could remain standing. Her body felt like someone had shattered her bones with a sledgehammer. She grimaced, rubbing her forehead to ease the throbbing, and tentatively looked up.

Where was she? Nothing seemed familiar about this place. It appeared to be far from any city, and she couldn’t think of any reason for her to be so far from home. She searched her brain, but was greeted by a disturbing blank.

Behind her, somebody groaned.

She whirled around to see a dark-cladded boy pushing himself off the ground. His outfit was very particular; a red and black bodysuit that covered every inch of skin, topped by a domed helmet that reflected her own startled expression. Was that odd? She thought it might be, but strangely, she couldn’t remember . . .

The boy hissed and collapsed onto his stomach, and she automatically rushed over and hooked her arm under his. He sagged against her, his helmet slowly rising to look her in the face. She felt him stiffen under her arm. And their positions changed. The boy moved so fast that she had no time to react and suddenly, he was straddling her and holding a blade to her neck.

“Oh, Aqua,” the boy chuckled, “always have to be the good Samaritan.”

The blade slid teasingly across her throat, and her heartbeat quickened.

“No smart comebacks?” the boy sneered. “I’ll admit, I’m disappointed. You usually put up a better fight.”

_Do I?_ For the life of her, she didn’t know. She couldn’t remember. Her past was contained in a murky fog, and all her attempts to breach it only dragged her down further.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The blade dropped. The boy cocked his head to one side, studying her with eyes she couldn’t see. “Funny,” he said. He no longer sounded amused, but angry. “I’d advise you change this conversation now, Aqua.”

Aqua. Her lips formed the word, feeling a connection to it. Was that her? Was she Aqua?

She spoke out loud, and she could almost see the boy’s eyes roll. “Yes, your name. Did I rattle your brains?”

“I-I don’t know. I can’t remember . . .”

The blade finally fell away. “Can’t remember what?” the boy demanded. When she remained silent, he grabbed her by the collar. “Answer me!”

It fell out of her mouth. “Anything!”

He held her there for a few seconds more, then slowly pried his fingers loose. “You don’t remember _anything_? Quick, tell me who I am, who Ventus is.”

“I don’t know.”

A long moment passed. Then he spoke.

“I’m your friend, Vanitas. Ventus is the one who did this to you.”


	2. Complicated

“We’re friends, so you were threatening to slit my throat?”

Vanitas hissed, fists clenched. “I told you, we enjoy sparring. The concept’s not that complicated.”

Aqua rubbed her neck, shuddering as she remembered how easily he could have ended her life. Though he said it was an accident, Vanitas had succeeded in piercing her skin, and a few drops of blood were visible. However, it was nothing compared to the other pains she felt. Her lungs burned whenever she breathed, and there was a dull ache in her chest that kept spreading outwards. Resolutely, though, she followed as Vanitas tracked Ventus.

“Why did he attack me?” Aqua asked.

Vanitas knelt down and traced the edge of a small footprint “For fun. He’s a maniac who would like nothing more than to settle a few scores.”

That was a disturbing description. As if agreeing, her heart clenched painfully. “He’s our enemy?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

The pause that followed was so long, that Aqua was sure Vanitas was done. But then he stilled, turning to look at her thoughtfully.

“And no,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“He used to be your friend, until you saw the monster behind those innocent eyes. Then you turned on him, and things have been crazy ever since.” He chuckled lowly, a humourless sound. “He still has a soft spot for you.”

Her leg suddenly buckled as a bolt of pain ran through it. “It doesn’t seem like it,” she forced out through gritted teeth. “Why are we going after him?”

“He needs to be stopped, him and Terra. Aqua, listen to me.” And Vanitas stepped close, much too close. “Don’t believe a word either of them says. They know your weaknesses; they know exactly how to play you.”

She nodded, trying to look serious. Internally though, she was doubtful. Aqua didn’t even know what her weaknesses were anymore; would it make a difference if they did?

“Good.” He patted her on the head like a pet. It was a manner she was growing accustomed to; even the way he told her to follow held an underlying smugness. Sometimes, she wondered how she had become friends with him in the first place.

The ground swayed. Whoever this Ventus was, he had done a number on her. It was hard to tell since she seemed fine from the outside, but there was no other explanation for the fatigue that laced her muscles, or the tender bump on her head. It would be nice when they got back to civilization and she could lay down for a bit.

“Vanitas, are you sure we should be getting into a fight with him again?”

“What are you saying?!” The venom in his voice made her cringe. “That I –”

He stopped himself as he saw her face, and dragged a hand down the front of his helmet. “I’m sorry,” he said flatly. Before she could speak, he added, “Just trust me.”

And she did. There was no other choice.


	3. Making History

The ache had evolved into true pain.

It felt like a knife had been forced inside her chest and every time she moved, the tip pushed into one organ or another.  A salty metallic taste lay on her tongue, and the back of her mouth was coated with the bile she kept swallowing down.

The pace Vanitas set was normal, but to her, it was brutal. The sharp pains in her body, combined with her dizziness, made it impossible for her to gather her bearings. She wasn’t even conscious that her legs had stopped working, only that they gave out under her and that her face was planted in the sand. Harsh coughs shook her body, and when she finally gained enough strength to raise her head, she saw the ground under her was dotted with red.

During this, Vanitas had just watched. Now he sauntered over, arms crossed behind his head. He watched her the way a little boy would watch a dog perform an interesting trick.

“Seems like there’s a lot more internal damage than I thought,” he said. “You won’t be able to make it back.”

Panting, Aqua looked up at him with desperation, fear, and the tiniest bit of doubt. Wasn’t he supposed to be her friend? Why, then, did he sound sickly amused instead of concerned? Of course, that may have just been her; his voice sounded distant to her, and each syllable left trails of echoes.

“We haven’t even found Ventus yet,” he murmured.

Aqua opened her mouth, intent on telling him that she didn’t exactly care right now. However, just then, her stomach heaved, and the words were lost in a moan as she curled into a ball.

Footsteps led away from her, and then back again as Vanitas changed his mind. Flipping her onto her back, he brushed her bangs out of the way and laid a hand on top of her forehead.

“Sorry, Hades,” he sighed, and his fingers curled, “but this is too good a plan to waste.” His hand pressed down on her, and he said, “You know, Aqua, this is the first time I’ve ever used my magic to . . .” He trailed off, sounding a tad wistful as he did, before he chuckled and started up again. “You and me, we’re really making history here.”

She didn’t even have time to ask what he was talking about before the darkness rushed into her.

The magic flowed through her veins, patching holes and mending hurts that they couldn’t see. But it stopped before it could completely heal her; Aqua’s own latent light had responded, crashing and wrestling with the darkness like two snarling wolves fighting over a scrap of meat. The darkness, the foreign entity, faltered. However, Vanitas still had contact with her, and he sensed this. With a click of his tongue, he forced more darkness into her body, matching her light in its intensity.

Aqua trembled. She liked it better when she had been dying.


	4. Unbreakable

“At last!” Vanitas cried. “Some action!”

A group of humanoid beings stood in their way. They were tall, dark things, with beady yellow eyes and long fingers that ended in claws. At the edges, a light black mist rose from them, as if they were dissolving before her eyes. The creatures glided across the ground, fanning out to encircle them.

Black flames ran up Vanitas’ arm, gathering above his palm where a red and black keyblade materialized. He swung it back behind his head, holding it aloft in a way that made it curve forwards. After a second, he looked back at her, and asked, “Aren’t you going to help?”

“Help?” she repeated hoarsely. She eyed the shadowy creatures with trepidation, growing tense as they tiptoed closer.

“You don’t remember how to fight,” he said incredulously. He groaned as he sunk into a battle stance. “I never thought that might actually be a bad thing.”

The creatures hissed. Though the ones near Vanitas seemed hesitant to approach, the ones facing her had no similar qualms. They were stalking towards her, eyes fixed on her chest. She tried to step back, found that her foot was dragging through the sand, and glanced down to see her legs bent, and that she was in a battle stance of her own. Shifting her weight from one foot to the next, she felt completely balanced, strong, and some of her anxiety disappeared.

Vanitas suddenly spoke. “Aqua, come here.”

She obeyed, going slowly. She was reluctant to lose this strangely comforting stance, and she certainly didn’t want to turn her back on the creatures. Vanitas’ annoyance at her slowness was clearly expressed in his grunt, though there was no trace of that when he spoke again.

“Now,” he chuckled, “stand back and be amazed.”

All this time, she had expected the creatures to pounce. Instead, it was Vanitas who pounced upon them. With a wild laugh, he lunged and thrust his keyblade through one of the creature’s chest, instantly reducing it to mist. He was a blur of red and black as he tore through their forces, and through it all, Aqua imagined he didn’t stop grinning.

It appeared protecting was not something Vanitas was used to, and several times, he arrived at the last minute to throw a creature off her, annoyed that he had to interrupt his slaughter. He wasn’t the only one. As she was forced to retreat, she couldn’t help but be furious. It wasn’t natural what she was doing; though logic said otherwise, her body wanted to stand its ground and fight.

And finally, there was no room to run, and Vanitas wasn’t there. The creatures leapt, claws extended, and the air rippled. Warmth flooded her, something seemed to tug at her heart, and a bright light flashed in front of her eyes.

When it faded, in her hands, Aqua held a keyblade of her own.

The weapon felt powerful, unbreakable, and she smiled. Finally, things felt right to her.


	5. Obsession

Rainfell. That was the name she had given her keyblade. Vanitas had pushed her to name it Reaper, or something equally as silly and morbid, but she hadn’t listened. Rainfell fit right on her tongue, and the more she thought about it, the more perfect she became convinced the name was.

It literally gave her a headache to think of calling it something else. When she mentioned that aloud, Vanitas immediately turned on her. He had grabbed her wrist so tightly that it left bruises, and demanded that she explain. She had not; she didn’t know the explanation.

It took a bit of prompting before he released her, but he did so without an apology. Now, instead of Vanitas strutting about in front, he slunk behind her, breathing down her neck. It was terrible; she could feel Vanitas’ unease beginning to set hers off.

She knew it must have been her stalwart refusal to change Rainfall’s name that had him worked up, but why? Obviously, whatever this name meant was important to him, and as his friend, she should already know that. It frustrated her beyond all ends that she didn’t remember such basic information. All she wanted was to return to their pre-amnesia dynamic, where they were partners fighting for balance in the universe. Maybe then she’d stop panicking whenever he cornered her.

Plus, maybe she’d remember why the name was so important to her. Vanitas’ behaviour was placing bleak thoughts in her head, like maybe the name had originated from a time when she still fought alongside Ventus. Maybe the name had something to do _with_ Ventus. That could have been the reason for Vanitas’ anger; he was worried that without her memories, she was reverting to the person she used to be. She tried to tell him otherwise, placing her hand on his shoulder and saying so, but the awkwardness had risen so quickly between them that she had said nothing more.

But seriously, it seemed that Vanitas’ obsession with that name outweighed her own. When they settled down for the night, the first thing he asked was whether she remembered anything else about the name. When she told him no, he grunted and shifted away from her.

She was awake for a long time, and so was he. It was only when she rolled onto her side and saw Vanitas’ head snap around, that she realized he was watching her. Was he waiting for her to fall asleep, or did he just happen to be keeping watch? At first, she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Then, she smiled. After all this worrying and confusion about their friendship, it was nice to see some kind of gesture of concern from him. It helped relieve her childish doubts that not everything he said was true.

But she still wished she could remember, if only just to answer her questions about herself. She sighed, knowing that obsession would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.


	6. Eternity

They’d reached town.

In the order of things she enjoyed most about civilization, food would be first, with a soft bed a close second. Food had been a tricky subject in the desert. For whatever reason, neither of them had packed much. They rationed, at first, but after Aqua learned to summon Rainfell, Vanitas disappeared for stretches of time. He always returned, bearing something for her to eat, but it made her uneasy whenever she checked behind to see that he wasn’t there.

However, food was no longer a concern. There was plenty of it in the Olympus Coliseum, and she had plenty of munny. Vanitas had shown her how to count it out, and then set her loose to wander around town alone, making her swear to avoid the climatic coliseum.

“Aqua!”

A teen with blue eyes and spiky black hair ran up to her, skidding to a halt. “So, about that date?”

Date? She stared, unable to speak.

 “Oi, Zack! Get over here.”

“Shoot,” Zack mumbled. “Uh, maybe next time?”

“Sure,” she said, still in shock.

Zack’s eyes lit up. “Really? Great! I’ll see you later!”

He ran off, leaving Aqua with her confusion. Did she have a boyfriend? Funny, she thought that would have been something Vanitas would have mentioned.

Although people surrounded her, when Zack disappeared from her vision, she felt alone. Shopping, even window-shopping, no longer seemed appealing. She steered her way out of the marketplace, settling on a ledge on the outskirts of town.

The downside of having so much free time was that she had time to dwell. Today, it was on the past she had forgotten. She had thought, after Rainfell returned to her, that it would be okay; she would adjust and continue the same life she had before. Now, she wasn’t sure. Chin in her hands, she gazed out at the horizon and thought of all that may be lost.

She was there for a long time. Around sunset, someone’s shadow covered her, still and waiting.

“I thought you would be back before dark,” Vanitas said.

“You came looking for me?”

He shrugged. “You weren’t there. I didn’t know what you were planning.” There was a note of accusation in his tone.

“I. . . I wanted to think.”

A short silence followed before he spoke. “Is the past really that important?”

“It was my entire life.”

“So make a new one. It doesn’t matter what you used to be.  Darkness knows I didn’t need that weakness.”

When Aqua didn’t react, Vanitas groaned. “Look, you could angst over this for all eternity, but I don’t have that kind of time. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t the most sensitive way to put it, but Aqua understood the gist of it, and felt that his heart was in the right place. Taking his offered hand, she pulled herself to her feet. Maybe, someday, she would remember. Maybe she never would. Whatever the answer was, all she could do was survive and move forwards.


	7. Gateway

The day began so innocently. She woke up, made herself breakfast and headed out to spend another day in town. She had rented her own room near the marketplace (Vanitas disappeared at night, so she wasn’t sure where he was staying), so even though the street her door led out to was dim and empty, it was filled with joyful voices.

She was walking down that street, minding her own business, when a black blur leapt out from around the corner. Reflexively, she brought Rainfell up and another person’s keyblade locked against hers.

Vanitas chuckled. Aqua did nothing as he unlocked their blades and he stepped back. She did react, however, when he swung at her again. And then they fought earnestly. It was all she could do to keep up with him. Vanitas was strong - her bones rattled whenever their keyblades collided - he was fast, and he had years of remembered fights that she didn’t.

This day had begun so innocently, and now she was against a wall with a blade to her throat. Vanitas sure had a strange idea of humour.

“You used to be so much better,” he said.

“Before, I couldn’t even remember that I had Rainfell,” she reminded him, stung.

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And yet, you fight better than someone who’s forgotten _everything_.”

She rolled her eyes. Lately, Vanitas kept making snide comments like that, as if he expected her to yell ‘Surprise!’ and regale him with tales of their past.

“Is there any reason you’re trying to kill me?” she asked, trying to sound as bored as possible.

“I’m not trying to kill you.” He paused. “Not yet.”

There was enough space between her neck and his blade that she could safely move away and continue down the street. Vanitas followed her, draping an arm around her shoulders. She frowned, consciously eliminating the tension in her back. While Vanitas’ darkness naturally set her on edge, it was more than that. His grip was always too tight, as if he expected her to try to run away.

“You seemed to have recovered,” he said, idly examining a gloved hand. “We should be able to use corridors now.”

“Corridors?”

“Corridors of darkness. They’re,” he made a circular motion with his hand, “like gateways to other worlds.”

He jerked his chin forwards, pointing to a black hole that opened up in front of her. A dark mist oozed from the opening, bringing goosebumps to her skin, and she could see no signs of another world beyond the void.

“Ladies first,” Vanitas said, tightening his grip. Evidently, he sensed her nervousness.

“It’s safe?” she asked.

His laugh was low, menacing. “Would I lie to you?”

_Yes!_ screamed the voice in her head, though there was no logical reason for it. Reminding herself that Vanitas was her friend, and that she had probably done this many times before, she swallowed her fear, and walked into the darkness.

Behind his mask, Vanitas grinned wickedly.


	8. Death

It was like leading a lamb to the slaughter.

In the conversations he had eavesdropped upon, oftentimes Ventus was compared to a puppy. But really, he thought, it should be with Aqua that they made that comparison. She was so trusting, so eager to please, so obedient.

So naïve.

His portal had led them into a dark forest, far from any habitation. True, he could have just led her to the outskirts of the town they were formerly in, but he didn’t want to take any chance of leaving behind a witness. He needed to prevent word of what was about to transpire from getting back to Aqua’s friends. It wasn’t Ventus he was worried about, but the oldest apprentice; he had to be tough if he was Master Xehanort’s chosen vessel.

Aqua had no idea that this would be the place of her death. She was staring at the trees in awe, her back facing him as the wind blew hair across her neck.

He summoned Void Gear.

It would be so easy.

It really was a shame that it had to come to this. He had spent nights imagining the look on Ventus’s face when he saw that Vanitas had turned his best friend against him. It would be priceless. Imagine if Aqua attacked him!

Not like that would ever happen. Even with her memory loss, Aqua was sickeningly nice, a trait that simultaneously repelled and attracted him. Getting her to fight Ventus would probably be like getting her Master to praise the darkness publically.

If he breathed a little harder, she would feel his breath on her neck. It really was a shame. However, there was no telling how permanent Aqua’s amnesia was. If she remembered Rainfell, something must have been coming back to her. He couldn’t take the risk.

He frowned. He wasn’t sure of what risk to which he was referring. If Aqua did suddenly remember, she wasn’t going to kill him; it wasn’t in her nature. The most she would do was attack and call him a freak again. Oh well. The choice was his to make, and it was made.

And suddenly, he lowered Void Gear. It was his choice, he realized, because he had created her. Before, she had been something else, belonging to her friends and the whims of her light-filled heart. Now, she only had him. She _belonged_ to him.

 . . .

Other than his keyblade, he had nothing that he could call his own.

Void Gear vanished.

Aqua turned, hearing the whoosh. Her eyes him, and she frowned in concern. He scoffed; already she was starting to read his moods. He brushed her concerns off, telling her that he must have had the wrong place before opening another corridor. There was no telling how long this facade would last, how long he would possess something unknown to even his Master. He planned to enjoy it while he could.

Plus, he was really looking forward to seeing Ventus’s face.


	9. Opportunity

The moonlight shone through Aqua’s window, illuminating the side of her face as she slept. From there, it spilled onto the wooden floor, growing dimmer the closer it got to the opposite wall, finally vanishing as it met the tip of a boot. Crouched in the shadows, Vanitas watched the steady rise and fall of Aqua’s chest, muscles coiled in anticipation.

He’d had a good day. While releasing the unversed in Neverland, he’d come across a certain blond boy. Not only did he proceed to beat the living daylights out of Ventus, but he’d managed to hint that Aqua had betrayed him. Laughing, he’d left the useless apprentice properly freaked out and teleported away.

However, while fighting Ventus, Vanitas’s eyes had been drawn to one thing: the Wayfinder. That, and its two brothers, had been created by Aqua, and anyone with a brain knew how precious it used to be to her. It may still be important to her. Whether it was or not, Vanitas couldn’t let her keep it. It was symbolic of her friends, of her past and as long as he had it his way, Aqua would have zero opportunities to discover her roots.

Some tiny part of him felt odd, but he ignored it.

He approached and peeled back the covers. The Wayfinder rested on the bed next to her, chained to the links of a necklace. He hadn’t seen that before; she must have bought it today. With quick, nimble fingers, he reached around and undid the clasp, working the Wayfinder loose. The glass was warm from the heat of her body, and he could feel it even after it was buried deep in his pocket.

He slipped out of the room and perched atop the roof. Smirking, he twirled the Wayfinder between his fingers, and it cast a bright blue reflection on the shingles. She hadn’t even stirred. He wondered if she didn’t wake because she was a sound sleeper, or because she had sensed and trusted him.

Trust. What an amusing part of their relationship.

He should smash this worthless piece of glass. Whatever magic lay in it, he was sure that it wouldn’t survive a two-story drop. He held it up over the edge, between his thumb and his index finger. It swayed back and forth, almost hypnotizing, begging him to spare it.

He held it there for much longer than he should have. Some part of him was retreating from the idea of smashing it, and he didn’t know why.

So, before he actually became worried about these abnormal feelings, he justified it. The Wayfinder meant everything to Aqua. If she regained her memories and found out that he destroyed it, it might push her over the edge, and he counted on her ingrained kindness to defeat her. Destroying the Wayfinder would be counterproductive.

He didn’t know what he was going to do with it, but he would figure something out.

The next morning, he watched, expressionless, as Aqua frantically searched.


	10. 33%

There was a monster in front of her, and Aqua barely cared.

Although just a minute ago it had been rampaging and chasing people in the marketplace, the monster showed no aggression towards her –a good thing. She was so sluggish and exhausted that that if it did lunge at her, she wasn’t sure she would be able to get out of the way.

She felt naked without the Wayfinder. It was a silly thing made of stained blue glass, and she had only noticed it when she had tried to sleep and felt something hard digging into her ribs. She’d taken it out of her pocket, stared, and there had been faint stirrings in the back of her mind. Ever since then, she’d secretly studied it at night. Though the Wayfinder didn’t unlock a surge of memories, she kept doing it. Looking at it, holding it, made her feel happy. Warm.

Now it was gone, and it was like a piece of her had been ripped away.

“Aqua?” Vanitas had been strolling through the empty marketplace, stopping dead when he saw her staring down the monster. “What are you doing?”

The monster flinched and vanished into thin air as if Vanitas had been yelling at it. Aqua shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. After spending a good hour or so tearing apart her room, she’d wandered out in a daze.

“I’m talking to you, answer me!” Vanitas snapped, waving a hand in front of her eyes. She hadn’t even seen him approach. “What’s wrong with you? It’s like only a third of you is actually here.”

She didn’t answer. How could she describe this hole in her heart? She had trouble getting Vanitas to understand her view at the best of times, due in part to Vanitas’s natural stubbornness. That, and the fact that he wasn’t exactly . . . sympathetic.

But he most have been trying, because he quickly picked up on the source of her distress. “It’s a piece of glass,” he said, his voice dripping with disbelief. “It’s nothing more than junk – “

“No, it’s not!” she cried. “It’s important to me!”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

She knew exactly what expression existed behind his mask. She couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear his contempt and ridicule, and took off, leaving Vanitas alone.

He found her again at sunset as she sat on the roof and watched the sky. They spoke, argued about the Wayfinder a little more and just when she thought things couldn’t get more awkward, he dropped something in her lap. It was a bracelet, blue and tinged with silver, similar to her keyblade. It was beautiful and fitted her wrist perfectly.

“If you’re so upset over losing that thing, then take that,” Vanitas said.

It didn’t fix the pain, not even a little. The Wayfinder was special, one of a kind, and no fancy trinket would change that. But he had tried, and maybe, that was enough for her.


	11. Dead Wrong

As the days passed, the monsters continued to come and go.

Sometimes, she only heard of their attacks after they occurred; sometimes, they were just whispered rumours in the alleyways; and sometimes, crowds would rush by her, screaming of horrible creatures tearing up the place or otherwise causing havoc. Spurred onwards by her desire to help, she would be one of the few to run the other way, towards the source of the chaos. Time and time again though, the monsters would teleport when she approached or after she had destroyed one of their numbers. They never stayed to fight. It meant she took no injuries, but also that she couldn’t finish them. She wasn’t even sure she had an impact.

No matter how hard she thought, the mystery of the disappearing monsters eluded her, until she stumbled upon the answer by chance.

It had been early morning, just when the semicircle of the sun hung over the horizon. It was rare that she had a chance to spy on Vanitas, but this was one of those moments. It was luck, nothing else; she happened to be sitting on a rooftop, having sought out the best place to watch the sunrise, and Vanitas was walking through a street below her. Curiously, she watched him, hoping to gain some clue as to where he went at night.

She was disappointed in that regard, but not in another. In the middle of the street, Vanitas hunched over suddenly. He seemed to be shaking, though it was hard to tell from this distance. She was, however, able to see the darkness rising from his body. It gathered behind him, taking form, wispy like a puff of smoke.

And from the darkness, something was born.

Giant black hands reached out, dragging a large, grey body behind it. She gasped; that was one of the monster from the marketplace! Rainfell came to her, humming as she bent her legs and prepared to jump to Vanitas’s aid. When the masked boy turned, she was sure a vicious fight was imminent; but nothing happened – at least, nothing she was expecting. Instead, Vanitas patted the monster on its head before pointing down an alleyway. At once, the monster followed his directions and charged.

Screams rose.

She stood there, frozen. That monster, Vanitas had . . . he had _commanded_ it. Was that the reason for their rampages, because he had told them to act that way?

She still hadn’t moved by the time Vanitas sauntered out of view. _Why?_ her mind screamed. Why would he do this? They were supposed to be keeping the balance, weren’t they? But this, attacking all these innocent people, this couldn’t be right. Her stomach churned; acid seemed to be burning through the organ. Everything she thought she knew, everything she believed about him, it had been wrong. Dead wrong.

But Vanitas was her friend, wasn’t he? If that was true, then did this mean that she had been wrong about herself, too?


	12. Running Away

She never thought she’d find herself running away.

Just yesterday, the idea would have ludicrous. However, ever since she had discovered Vanitas’s role in the attacks, it had been inevitable. She had been too nervous to confront him about it – in that way, she was a coward – but it wasn’t something she could ignore. Even if Vanitas was right and they were merely fighting for balance, if this was the way they went about it, she couldn’t have any part in it. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she needed to be alone. She needed to think without Vanitas influencing her thoughts.

She took off at midnight, in the middle of a raging storm that shook the buildings. Rain battered the stones around her, splashing and creating a fine white mist that hung just over the ground. She’d cast a Barrier spell to use as an umbrella, and although the humidity still made her feel soaked, physically she was dry.

A fork of white-hot lightning split the sky. Just then, something exploded against her barrier with such power that the spell forcibly ended. She thought that the lightning had struck it; but then, just as the last of the light was fading, she saw a form standing on the edge of a roof.

She paled. It couldn’t be . . .

A monster rushed out of the darkness with her in its sights. Rainfell materialized, slashed through the creature once, twice, three times before it succumbed. Fearfully, she looked up, trying to see where the figure had ran to while she was occupied.

 But it wasn’t him that she should have been worried about. A black mist rose from the shadows around her, and from there, dozens of small, purple monsters leapt.

She had a moment’s delay as she switched her gaze from the roofs to the monsters, and that was long enough to be the end of her. Although she fought valiantly, the monsters latched onto her. They built up like a cocoon, and the sheer weight forced her to her knees. Rainfell clattered to the ground.

The monsters moulded around her, stretching, tightening like ropes. It was getting hard to breathe. Tentatively, she tried to move her hand into a place to summon Rainfell and immediately, they wrapped tighter, forming a purple straightjacket.

Rain fell around them.

The sound of footsteps joined it. Loud and sharp, they pierced through the air like a gunshot, almost as intimidating as the boy who caused them. Lightning flashed, revealing Vanitas walking down the street towards her. The light faded again, taking him with it, but Aqua could see him clearly in her mind’s eye.

When he was only a couple of feet away from her, that’s when she was able to see him. He crouched down so that they were at eye-level, and she looked away in anger and shame.

He grabbed her chin and wrenched it around to face him.

“Where are you going?” he snarled.


	13. Judgement

In all the time she had known him, she had never seen him as out of control as she did now.

If he had hair instead of that helmet, he would have torn it into chunks. Instead, he groped feebly at the sides of the dome, fingers curled into claws. His laughter was high-pitched, wild, taking over his body, and her coat of unversed alternately loosened and tightened like a massive fist.

“Do you think I enjoy this?” he roared. “Being the father of all these . . . things?”

His left hand cut through the air in a sweeping motion, beckoning to all of his creations. He had just finished explaining to her what the unversed were, and how they were created. She didn’t know what was more horrifying: that Vanitas admitted to being their leader, or that they were born from his own negative emotions. Taking in the unversed around them, she wondered just how awful he had to be feeling right now.

“You use them to hurt people,” she said.

“They’re born from negative emotions,” Vanitas reiterated, frustrated. “They don’t do good things.”

“Have you tried?” She saw him stiffen and knew the answer. “Maybe, if you just gave them a chance, they –”

“I don’t need your judgement!”

In the aftermath of those words, there was only the sound of rain. Vanitas stood still, his chest heaving. The air between them crackled with unsung emotions: rage, despair, regret. Contained by her living prison, Aqua could only watch as Vanitas looked towards the sky and spread his hands out like some bizarre prophet.

“You want to slay the monster, Aqua?” he asked. “Fine.” With a snap of his fingers, the unversed disappeared. Now there was only them. “Let’s make this a fight for the ages.”

He summoned his dark keyblade, and patiently waited for her to do the same. Uncertainly, she did, holding it loose at her side.

“Come on, Aqua,” he chuckled. “I’ll let you have the first blow.”

Above, the skies rumbled. He held out an encouraging hand, and waited with his keyblade deceptively planted in the ground. Was this what it would come down to? Aqua shook her head, refusing to take the bait.

“You can’t chicken out now,” he said. His voice deepened, becoming more of a snarl. “I’m just starting to have fun.”

She swallowed. She knew then that if she didn’t act, Vanitas would take it upon himself to make the first move. Yet, attacking him would be as equally bad. Not only would he probably win the ensuring fight, but she really didn’t want to attack.

She saw him relax as she stepped forward, and wondered what was going on inside that mind of his. She was within arm’s reach now, close enough to swing.

She didn’t.

Vanitas was tense in her arms. She could feel him shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “that you have to go through this.”

Time passed. Then, hesitantly, she felt Vanitas lean into the hug.


	14. Seeking Solace

There was an unversed in the marketplace.

Bellowing, it picked up a stall and threw it across the street, where it exploded into splinters above the head of the panicked crowd. The unversed beat its chest, tore through an awning, and then stomped its way towards another thing to throw.

Through this all, Aqua watched. She could run in and destroy it, but that wouldn’t solve the problem. The unversed would only teleport or, if she did succeed in sneaking up on it, disappear, waiting until Vanitas’s emotions peaked again. There must have been a better solution.

She thought she had one.

She turned her back to the unversed, and walked away.

She found him in a glade not far away, kicking stones with his head bowed. It looked like anger, but most of Vanitas’s emotions appeared that way. Judging by the variety of the unversed, he must have had a rich spectrum of emotions that, for whatever reason, he hid from her. She wondered if it had always been that way, or he only started doing it after she lost her memories.

She frowned. Vanitas struck her as a very lonely individual. While he made references to Ventus, Terra and other people Aqua once had in her life, he never mentioned anyone that he knew. It seemed that he only had her. There was no one else to keep him company or from whom he could seek solace.

And now, because of her amnesia, he didn’t even have her.

She spoke softly, and Vanitas’s head snapped up as if she had yelled. He regarded her with suspicion, his stance coiled like a panther preparing to pounce. He let her approach, but she could tell that her light manner and words confused him, especially in light of their intense encounter a few nights ago.

“Aqua,” he said finally, after she again attempted to breach the ice, “what are you doing?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to make you feel better, but I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

“Make me feel better?” he said slowly.

“The unversed are running around,” she explained.

She could picture his eyes rolling behind that helmet. “Then shouldn’t you be a hero and go after them?”

“Why?” she asked. “It will just come back. But if you stop feeling . . . whatever you’re feeling, then it will go away, right?”

He gave her a long look, burning a hole in her head. “It won’t work,” he said. “You can’t make me stop feeling these emotions. Simply put, it’s impossible.”

“Have you tried?” When he refused to answer, she pushed harder. “There’s no harm in giving it a chance.”

Vanitas chuckled, but it was a sad one. He tried to walk past her, but Aqua stepped back, placing a hand on his shoulder to still him.

“Humor me, Vanitas,” she said. “Just trust me.”

Another long moment passed. Then, with a loud sigh, Vanitas flicked her hand off. “Alright, Aqua,” he said, sounding terribly amused, “make my day.”


	15. Excuses

“No, I don’t want to sit on a bench and feed pigeons, I don’t want to help old ladies cross the street, and I _certainly_ don’t want to frolic in a field filled with sunshine and rainbows!” Vanitas ticked each option off on his fingers, giving her a critical look.

“I didn’t suggest any of that,” she protested.

He snorted. “Based on the other things you said, you were going to.”

She ignored the jab, and continued to think. The problem with Vanitas was that everything he enjoyed seemed to involve hurting things, and while she wanted him to enjoy himself, that was not something she wanted to encourage. There had to be some balance between his predatory nature and having fun . . .

She had an idea.

After Vanitas teleported them to a world neither of them knew (that way they would be on equal footing for the game), she sought out a group of children to make teams – something Vanitas was perturbed by. He wasn’t much taller than them, and stood awkwardly to the side.

“Aqua,” he said slowly, “explain.”

She grinned and shoved a wooden sword into his chest. “We’re playing capture the flag!”

Vanitas acted disinterested throughout her entire explanation, but she knew that was faked because of the stillness of his body. The two teams separated afterwards – Vanitas already having nicknamed his The Floods. She and her team barely had time to work out a strategy before his barged in and charged, swords waving. Sending an entire group of minions without any signs of a plan . . . it was such a Vanitas move that she knew he was intrigued. Yet, although Vanitas was clearly interested in playing, he was nowhere in sight. That meant that there was some sort of plan ongoing.

Thankfully, she knew just what it was.

She passed over the leadership role to a boy named TJ, then slunk back to where they had stashed their flag. She hid nearby, making sure she had a clear view.

Vanitas dropped down in front of her.

He walked straight towards the flag, his gait brisk and confident. Forcing herself to remain calm, she snuck up behind her and, for once, put the blade of her wooden sword to _his_ neck.

“Nice try,” she said.

Vanitas said nothing for a few moments. “I knew you were there.”

She laughed, and he continued indignantly. “I did! Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you could possibly sneak up on me.”

“Yes, because you actually planned for me to pretend-kill you.” She removed the sword from his throat and poked him in the ribs. “Stop making excuses.”

“You didn’t surprise me,” he insisted, grumbling. It was almost endearing, and she was ready to tease him some more when he stiffened, staring over her shoulder. Before she could see what it was, he spun her around and snaked an arm around her waist.

Wide blue eyes met hers.

Vanitas pulled her closer, and sneered, “Hello, Ventus.”


	16. Vengeance

Ventus stared at them. His mouth dropped open; his face betrayed nothing but pure shock.  Seemingly unable to speak, his eyes darted from Vanitas to Aqua, and then to the arm around her waist. He shook his head in frantic denial, and Vanitas enjoyed every second.

“A-Aqua?” Ventus stuttered.

He reached forwards, as if to rip her away from Vanitas, but Aqua retreated. Her eyes were like that of a cornered animal, fixed upon the keyblade that hung loosely at Ven’s side. It wasn’t the defiant anger that Vanitas had hoped for, but it had the same effect.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Ventus asked. “Don’t you know who that is?”

“Of course,” Aqua said, and relief revealed itself on Ven’s face. “He’s my friend.”

The relief was gone and replaced by dismay. Vanitas grinned; vengeance had such a sweet taste, and he savoured each moment like the treat it was.

“He can’t be your friend!” Ventus cried.

Aqua’s spine straightened. “Why not?”

Finally, some anger from her, and for once, Vanitas wasn’t on the receiving end. It was great because the devastation that crossed Ventus’s face was hilarious, and there was something nice about knowing that someone had your back.

“Aqua,” Ventus said, “he’s the one summoning all the unversed. All the bad stuff that’s been happening is because of him!” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand (Vanitas nearly laughed; was he going to cry?), and again asked, “What are you doing with him?”

“We were having a _private_ conversation,” Vanitas said, allowing the innuendo to sneak into his words. “So, if you don’t mind –”

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Ventus snarled, and the ferocity caught even Vanitas by surprise. That worked out to his advantage though, because Aqua noticed and reacted accordingly.

Upon seeing Aqua place even more space between them, Ventus visibly fought to control himself.

“Aqua,” his whine was like that of an injured dog, “don’t do this. I’m your friend, _remember_?”

Vanitas leaned back on his heels and waited for Aqua to tell him off. She didn’t. At first, he figured she was just being polite, or barring that, encountering the person supposedly responsible for her memory loss had freaked her out. But when he glanced at her, he saw that it was neither. Aqua’s eyes were squeezed close, her teeth was clenched, and she was holding the side of her head.

Something was horribly wrong, and if he didn’t act fast, he might lose her. And there was no way he would _ever_ lose her to Ventus.

“Remember what I told you,” Vanitas hissed into her ear. “Don’t trust a word he says!”

“What are you saying to her?” Ventus demanded. He stepped closer. “Answer me!”

This was not going to plan. Before Ventus could cause more damage, Vanitas opened up a portal. Grabbing Aqua by the arm, he threw her into it, then leapt after her.

Before it closed, he had just enough time to laugh at Ventus’s face.


	17. Love

She spent the rest of the day in her room. And the next day, and the next. She couldn’t sleep; instead, she lay awake at night, memories dancing on the fringes of her mind, memories that fled whenever she tried to grasp them. She was like a zombie, and Vanitas even had to coax her into eating. He was growing frustrated, she could tell, and maybe even concerned. But she ignored his demands for her to go outside and stayed in her room instead. She couldn’t go out, because if she started thinking again, it would hurt. Her head would hurt, her _heart_ would hurt, and even now, she couldn’t look in the mirror because her own blue eyes reminded her of _him_.

She didn’t understand why it hurt so much.

It was during one of those sleepless nights that she came up with a possible answer. In the morning, when Vanitas dropped by to bully her into eating breakfast, she asked the question.

“Did I love Ventus?”

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

“Not romantically,” she hastened to say, because she somehow knew that was not the case, “but platonically, did I love him?”

Vanitas had been playing with a knife before, twirling it in circles. Now, it shook as his grip tightened on the handle.

“Vanitas?”

“No!” His hand slammed down, and impaled the knife in the wood. “You didn’t love him!”

It was an answer that fooled no one. Aqua sighed and slumped in her chair; at least now she understood why seeing Ventus had such a great effect on her. Even if she couldn’t remember him, he had touched her heart before, and she was reaping the consequences. Vanitas’s fists were clenched as he stared at her, and she wondered if his stern denial was part of a misguided attempt to protect her.

“It’s okay,” she said, laying her hand on top of his. “I just needed to know.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“When I saw him, it hurt.” Unconsciously, she brought her other hand back to her chest. “I just needed to know why.”

He nodded. “What are you going to do now?”

 “I don’t like it, but there’s not much I can do.” Trying to add some humour to the situation, she smiled wryly and said, “I can’t remember why I loved him though, and seeing that he’s our enemy, I guess losing my memories may have been a good thing.”

Vanitas was silent for a moment. Then, he withdrew his hand from underneath hers and laid it on top. He leaned forwards, nearly stretching across the table. Were he to remove his mask, she would be able to feel his breath on her face.

“Yes,” he murmured soothingly, “it was a _very_ good thing.”

He patted the top of her hand, and then stood up with a laugh. His body language relaxed and confident again, he walked out of the room.

Aqua, on the other hand, suddenly felt terribly unsure.


	18. Tears

“Vanitas?”

She had never seen a place so packed before. The crowd surged behind her, pushing her forwards. Somewhere along the way, she had been ripped away from Vanitas. Being as short as he was, the second they were apart it became nearly impossible to find him. Her vision was filled with a wall of arms and indistinguishable faces. She pushed through them, fighting to get somewhere that she would be able to stay in one place.

She ended up being dumped into a side street. There was still no sign of Vanitas, and she figured there was little chance she would find him. If anything, he would find her.

She turned and walked down the road, the voices growing dimmer behind her. Leaves skittered across the ground, gathering at the feet of another person who had just entered the street as well.

“Aqua, is that you?”

The voice was soft and cautious, yet it sparked alarm within her. Quickly, nervously, she turned around and met the blue eyes of Ventus. He stared at her, eyes fixed on her face.  Her heart fluttered in fear. He wasn’t holding a weapon this time, but Vanitas had told her that Ventus was fast, very fast. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

“Where’s Vanitas?”

She stiffened. “Around,” she said evasively. She inched away, expecting him to lunge at her. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Wait!” Ventus held his empty hands up, showing that he meant no harm. “Can we talk?”

The agreement almost leapt out of her. She knew she shouldn’t stay here, not alone with him, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away. It was just talking, right? Talking couldn’t do any harm.

“Okay,” she said, “we can talk.”

Ven nodded. “Aqua, just tell me why you’re doing this.”

The begging was apparent in his tone, and pressure built up in the back of her head. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“Aqua . . .” He stepped closer, too close. Shivers ran up her spine, but she didn’t move away. She wasn’t sure if she could.

“Aqua, remember what our Master told us? Nothing good comes from darkness; no matter what Vanitas is promising, it won’t come true.  Please,” he sniffled, eyes shiny with tears, “come back to us.”

The back of her eyes were burning with her own tears. Why did it hurt so much to listen to him?

“Aqua, please!”

It _hurt_. She backed away like a wounded animal, shaking her head frantically. The pain was visible on her face and Ventus took notice.

He grabbed her shoulders. “Aqua, what’s wrong.”

She choked, unable to answer.

Their faces were almost touching as he said, “What did he do to you?”

She tore away from him, a hand over her throbbing heart. “I have to go,” she mumbled.

Ventus tried to stop her, but she was stronger. She pushed past, and lost herself in the crowd. Once she found herself alone, she sat down against a wall and cried.


	19. My Inspiration

Her fingers traced the bare expanse of her neck. Glass should sit upon there, she knew, smooth glass as blue as the sea. She sighed to herself and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. The Wayfinder had been very important to her, and she was beginning to think that she knew why.

The blue, it reminded her of Ventus’s eyes.

She sniffled. Everything seemed to come down to him.

It didn’t make the Wayfinder any less important to her, but it filled her with a bittersweet sensation. Her worst enemy might have been the inspiration for one of her most important possessions. She could only hope she was wrong about Ventus being the inspiration behind Rainfell’s name as well.

Her hand clinked as it fell against the road. Blinking, she lifted it to examine Vanitas’s gift. She wondered what he had been thinking when he bought it for her.

She wasn’t alone for much longer, just enough to dry her tears before Vanitas leapt off a rooftop and landed beside her. He glanced at her face, then at the ring she held between two fingers and said, “What, you decided you don’t like it?”

She thought he sounded hurt.

“Of course I like it,” she said, slipping it back on just to prove that.

He shrugged, putting on a show of nonchalance. “Just wondering. You seemed upset . . . did someone litter?”

She smiled. “No, not that.”

“You’re not going to tell me.” He turned, looking both ways down the street. “Where did Ventus go?”

“What?”

He scoffed, and she could picture his eyes rolling. “I’m not stupid, Aqua. I know he’s the problem, and that’s why you’re not telling me anything.”

She grabbed his wrist before he could pursue Ventus. “It’s not him.”

“ _Really_?” he drawled.

She knew that if this continued, then Vanitas would surely seek out Ventus. The thought of them fighting – of either of them getting hurt – made her stomach twist into knots.

“Why did you buy this?” she asked.

“The ring? Because you were ready to kill yourself over the Wayfinder.”

“Yes,” she said impatiently, “but _why_ this.”

Vanitas pointed away from her, his feet shifting as if he were planning to run. It wouldn’t be that much of a surprise if he blurted out an excuse and did exactly that; she knew he wasn’t comfortable when it came to, as he put them, touchy-feely moments.

He surprised her by staying.

“It reminded me of your keyblade,” he said.

“And that inspired you?”

“Keyblades are strength; I respect that.”

But Ventus had a keyblade too, and Vanitas certainly didn’t respect him. Hardly a day went by without Vanitas insulting the young keyblader in some way; runt and loser were some of the kinder nicknames he had given him. With that knowledge, she picked up the underlying meaning in Vanitas’s words: it wasn’t just strength in general he was referring to; he respected _her_ strength.

Or, at least, what it used to be.


	20. Never Again

It was a moonless night.

There was some festival tonight, and occasionally, a flash of red light would pass through the windows. Laughter and joy rang out outside, and he was separate from it all by four walls – which suited him perfectly, thank you very much. The happiness, the racket, it irritated him and he needed to stay in control right now.

Although, Vanitas reflected, that didn’t seem to be much help either.

It was a scene that evoked déjà vu: he loomed above Aqua while she slept, a foot on either side of her hips. If he dropped his hand just a little, Void Gear would touch her collarbone. Taking a deep breath, he raised his keyblade high, tip pointed at her heart.

He may have held it there for five minutes.

He closed his eyes. He had some idea, from prior experience, how this was going to go. Sure enough, Aqua stirred and he immediately teleported outside, wary of her waking up to him. There, he snarled, punching a wall with all his strength. It ended like this _every single time_.

He was a being born of negativity, a heart of pure darkness. He didn’t feel weaknesses such as mercy and affection. Why, then, was he so weak?

_“Do you think I enjoy this? Being the father of all these . . . things?”_

He laughed humourlessly. Who ever thought his own words would come back to haunt him? It hadn’t been false, what he said, but he hadn’t really believed it either. Now, he was starting to see how true it was, and it was all her fault.

Nearby, a few unversed appeared. Lately, they’d only shown up at night.

“Damn it, Aqua!” He wanted to hurt something, to tear it into itty-bitty pieces. It was only a shame he couldn’t transfer those emotions to the root of the problem.

So he attacked himself instead.

The unversed were alive, which meant they felt the need for self-preservation, particularly if their master told them to feel that way. They fought back, clawing and biting, ripping through his suit and drawing blood. He sliced through them in return, stiffening as the pain of their deaths rolled through him and spawned others. He screamed, his swings growing more and more frenzied and . . .

He was blasted against a wall, and a blue barrier separated him from his creations. The unversed bared their teeth and hissed at the intruder, but they were him, and so he knew they wouldn’t attack.

“Vanitas!”

He silently cursed. Usually, he made sure he was far away from her before he did this. Aqua ran up to him, staring in horror. She didn’t allow him to speak, to make excuses, and wrapped her arms around his neck, mindful of his injuries. Tired, hurt, Vanitas didn’t resist, instead going limp.

This was why he failed night after night. Aqua was different; Aqua _understood_. Once she was gone, he would never again have someone like her.


	21. Online

They stood in a park, Vanitas smacking his head against a tree as Aqua kneeled at the edge of a pond and fed ducks. She smiled, remembering his remark about pigeons, and held out some bread for him to take. He just looked at her.

“Have you ever loved someone?” she asked.

Vanitas straightened up, rubbing the place where his forehead should be. “Why are we talking about this?”

“I was just thinking-”

He cut her off. “About Ventus?”

“No!” The ducks quacked, sensing her sudden discomfort. She turned back to them, finding it easier to speak when she wasn’t looking directly at Vanitas. “But when we returned to the Olympic Coliseum yesterday, I ran into Zack again.” She said this with a childish excitement that Vanitas picked up on.

“Sounds like a sissy name,” he scoffed.

She didn’t comment, knowing better. “He mentioned something about a date, and it just got me thinking. . .”

“No. No, absolutely not!” Vanitas growled, “You did not love Zack; you didn’t have any feelings for him! You turned him down when he asked you for a date.”

“I told you that?” She thought about it for a moment, and then figured that was probably true.

After a moment of hesitation, Vanitas nodded stiffly.

“As I was saying, it got me thinking about you.”

“Me?” Vanitas choked. He sounded like he was a second from fleeing for his life or strangling her.

“Not like that,” she said impatiently, “but I know about Ventus, Terra and I, and I don’t know anything about you. For most of our lives, we weren’t friends. So, let’s hear about your past!”

“There were people,” Vanitas said quietly. He did not seem pleased by this choice of topic. “Now, there isn’t. End of story.”

“That’s all?” She got up from her perch at the pond and walked over. Vanitas watched her with his arms crossed over his chest. “There must be more.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” he spat. “That I had parents who loved me and we lived happily in a bright neighbourhood filled with children who liked me?”

She blinked, taken aback by his anger. “I’m just curious.”

“Don’t be!” He leaned in, reducing the space between them to an inch. “Because to answer your previous question, I don’t love anyone.” He chuckled. “That part of my brain never went online.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t feel those emotions, Aqua, I _can’t_. I can’t be happy, I can’t enjoy things,” he heard him panting, “and I don’t feel anything for _anyone_.”

She knew that last bit was directed at her, and it hurt. Bravely raising her chin, she asked, “Then what am I to you?”

By the way, he stood up and sucked in a huge breath, she knew that he had an answer on the tip of his tongue, and that it was going to be very nasty.

But quite abruptly, he turned and walked away, leaving her without an answer.


	22. Failure

Quiet, hovering close to the ground, Ven watched his best friend willingly speak to Vanitas without pulling out her keyblade. He wanted nothing more than to jump in before something bad happened, but, he reflected grimly, it was too late for that. Additionally, Vanitas was sure to counter any interruption with violence, and Ven wasn’t strong enough to defeat him.

And Ven certainly wasn’t strong enough for the combined might of Vanitas and Aqua.

Aqua, in her right mind, would never lay a hand on him. The problem was that he wasn’t sure whether this Aqua was sane. Something bad had happened– her earlier behaviour confirmed it – and he was certain it was Vanitas’s fault. Ven didn’t know how Vanitas had brainwashed her, but he would figure out a way to fix it, if only he could separate them.

For a brief moment, when Vanitas suddenly stepped inside a portal and Aqua continued on her way, Ven thought he might have a perfect chance to go help her. But then he felt a dark presence behind him, and even before he turned, he knew who it was.

“Enjoying the show?” Vanitas asked.

Although neither of them had expected different, it still wounded Ven’s pride when Vanitas soundly defeated him. Groaning, Ven healed his latest wounds, and struggled to rise. That struggle was stopped when Vanitas’s boot stomped on his back.

Vanitas clicked his tongue, and circled around to Ven’s front. “Oh, Ventus,” he said, “you have a long way to go before you can match me.”

Ven glared, too tired for words.

“But take your time,” Vanitas patted him on the head, “I’ll entertain myself with Aqua until then.”

Ven lunged, but Vanitas brought the pommel of his keyblade down on his head. His vision blurry, Ven could only listen to the dark apprentice’s next words.

“Do you know why Aqua chose me over you?” Vanitas sneered. “Because she simply had a choice. No one would ever choose a failure like you.”

“You’re lying!” Ven cried. He clambered up to his hands and knees. “I don’t what you did to her, but I won’t let you get away with it!”

Vanitas scoffed. “I’m not holding a knife to her throat,” he claimed.  “You’re just in denial.”

Vanitas stepped backwards and the darkness opened up behind him. “I’ll send Aqua your regards. No, wait,” he tapped his chin, pretending to think, “actually, I won’t.”

Even after Vanitas was gone, his laugh seemed to echo through the air.

Ven slumped in a corner, his head dropping as he mentally beat himself up for being so utterly incapable of protecting his friends. Vanitas didn’t even view him as a threat to his plan! At this rate, Ven would only be able to sit back and watch as Vanitas tore his best friend apart.

“Ven? What are you doing here?”

Terra?

“You need to get back home,” Terra told him. “It’s not safe . . .”

Ven cut him off. “Terra, Vanitas has Aqua.”


	23. Rebirth

She felt like a phoenix.

Just as the mythical creature was reborn from the ashes, so did Aqua face her rebirth from the remains of her lost past. Though the mind had forgotten, her body had not, and the more she practiced, the more things came back to her. The basics, stances and movement, were already there and magic was next. She sparred with Vanitas, shouting the names of spells she didn’t know, and that worked nonetheless. Her keyblade, though it had always felt like an extension of her arm, was trickier to use. She spent time polishing those moves, while Vanitas hung about and watched.

He had opted not to offer any suggestions, and instead let her find her own way. So she practiced the same things over and over, trying to work out this kink or another. Vanitas watched her intensely, studying the way she moved. Occasionally, she would spot him trying out his own move to the side or even less frequently, he would request her help to try something. Those sessions were brief, usually never lasting more than a few trials. Partly because of the length, it took her a while to figure out that he was developing counterstrategies to her techniques. It was an odd thing to do, but she figured that Vanitas simply couldn’t bear the thought of her getting better than him.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Vanitas commented upon seeing her extract yet another spell from her forgotten repertoire.

“My Master only taught it to me recently.”

Both of them froze as the impact of that statement hit them. A Master? She had a Master? A question was on the tip of her tongue, but Vanitas didn’t let her ask. He grabbed her wrist tightly, dragging her away from her training grounds.

“That’s enough for today,” he said brusquely.

“I have a Master?”

He ignored her, and continued to pull her along. Sensing the urgency in his manner, she let him.

“Vanitas, why would I have a Master?”

Vanitas groaned. “He trained you, but you two don’t talk much anymore.”

She nodded, thinking. Whoever this Master was, Aqua imagined him and her must have been very close. It was disheartening to hear Vanitas tell her that they had drifted apart, but at least it didn’t seem to be for the reason she and Ventus had. It shouldn’t be too hard to bond with her Master again.

“We should tell him what happened,” she said.

Vanitas stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face her. “No!”

“Why not?” she asked, crossing her arms. “He’s my Master; he should know.” She didn’t know why she was pushing this, but it seemed important that she did.

“So?” Vanitas growled. “Being a Master doesn’t make them a good person. Sometimes, you’re better off without them.”

He knew more than he was saying. She frowned; was there a reason for her alienation from her Master?

She sighed, not knowing what to think. “Okay, Vanitas. We won’t.”


	24. Breaking Away

She was in such a nice world. The world’s inhabitants were all so jolly and kind-hearted, though they looked strange. At first, it had puzzled her when she saw clothes-wearing animals walking around; but she had quickly come to accept it as one of this world’s quirks. Honestly, now she felt guilty about considering them odd at all.

There was one moment when a triplet of racing ducks knocked into her and caused her to trip; however, almost immediately, someone bent down and helped her up. This person was not an animal, but a human with brown hair and blue eyes. He gave off an amiable air, a familiar one. Now, if only he would stop staring at her.

“So, you and Vanitas?” the stranger said.

Oh. That was why he was staring. She shuddered, feeling a darkness pass over them.

“We’re friends,” she offered vaguely. She meant to say more, but the stranger cut her off.

“How long?” he growled.

Upon seeing shadows stirring in the other’s eyes, she backed away. Seeing as her best friend was the self-professed Prince of Darkness, it was a sight she was used to; however, this felt more dangerous, uncontrolled. It made her nervous.

“A while,” she said, not knowing the answer herself.

The stranger snorted, running a hand through his hair. “And what?” he demanded. “He’s such a great friend that you can just break away from your life and pretend that nothing happened before him? Aqua, what’s gotten into you?”

His eyes burned with anger and desperation. She didn’t understand any of it and shaking her head, spoke quickly, hoping to defuse the situation.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I lost my memory recently.” She closed her eyes, hating to admit this weakness. “I don’t know who you are.”

The stranger blinked. “You lost your memory,” he repeated. Then, just as she had hoped, he sighed in relief and some of the tension dissipated. “So, this must be why you ran away from Ven!”

Ven? Ventus? She froze, feeling the blood drain from her face. He knew Ventus? If that was true, than this must have been Terra.

She remembered talking to Vanitas about her former friends. While he had only insults to throw at Ventus, she knew that he felt more respect for Terra.

“If you see him,” Vanitas had warned her, “run.”

She made to do that, but he was too close and read her mind. Before she knew what was even happening, she found herself backed into a wall. A solid arm pushed against the stone on either side of her, barring her path. Her heart pounding, she looked up at the man holding her prisoner.

“Aqua, please, just trust me,” he said softly.

She tried to duck under his arm, but Terra grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. She could summon Rainfell, but some part of her mind clamped down, preventing her from hurting him.

“I can’t let you leave,” Terra said. His grip tightened. “You’ll thank me later.”


	25. Forever and a Day

“We’ve spent forever and a day looking for you,” Terra remarked casually as he checked if anyone was watching. “You’re not usually this hard to find.”

Aqua would have said something, but one of Terra’s hands was clamped over her mouth. The other curled around her body, pinning her arms to her side, and instead of clobbering him over the head like she should have, she meekly tried to squirm free. That rebellious part of her mind still held her body hostage, leaving it frozen with hesitation; however, even if she could summon Rainfell, she knew it was too late. The second she allowed Terra to grab hold of her, it was over. He was as tough and sturdy as the element he was named after, and even his obvious muscles were a weak testament to how strong he truly was.

“And now that I finally found you, Ven goes missing,” he sighed.

Her heartbeat quickened in panic, and her struggles increased. Phantom pains set her chest on fire as she recalled the aftermath of her last fight with Ventus. What would he do when Terra handed her over? It was not something she could anticipate, because Ventus was so confusing. The way he was supposed to act and did act scarcely matched, and she couldn’t even sort out her own feelings towards him.

“Aqua, relax,” Terra said, trying to soothe her.

It had the opposite effect.

“It will be over soon,” Terra said, oblivious to the sinister way his words could be translated. “We’ll take you home, fix your mind, and everything will be back to normal!”

It was useless to tell him that she didn’t know what normal was. She shuddered; by the sounds of it, he and Ventus were planning to brainwash her.

_Vanitas, where are you?_ He always showed up when she didn’t want him there; where was he now?

As if hearing her plead, she heard a high-pitched whine, like the sound of a kettle boiling over. Terra only had time to look up before a dark spell exploded against his back. His grip weakened, enough for her to slip away, and the cold touch of the darkness finally brought Rainfell to the surface. She sunk down into a stance, her keyblade glowing as she mentally chanted spells; however, before either she or Terra could move, Vanitas dropped down between them.

He pointed his keyblade straight at Terra, and she could feel the rage rolling off him in waves. “You better have your will written up, because . . . Terra?”

He cursed, backpedalling. Terra, seeing the tides change, summoned a brown keyblade and charged. Quickly, Vanitas blocked him with a wall of purple fire and created a portal for them.

Once they were through and safe, he turned to her and asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, closing her eyes as she thought about the narrow escape.

He said nothing and they looked out at the horizon, both knowing this was far from over.


	26. Lost and Found

In the midst of his meditation, he had been stricken with one clear thought: something was amiss. Although it pained him to do so, Master Eraqus assumed that his eldest apprentice had fallen into the darkness. That was why it was a surprise when a distraught Terra and Ventus nearly crash-landed on his world, blabbering about Aqua, of all people.

It appeared that while his feelings that something was wrong was correct, he had been incorrect as to what. It was not Terra that had been lost along the way, but Aqua. She had been lost and found again, but the person they found was not one they recognized.

Eraqus rubbed his forehead with one hand. The heart and mind were already so complex, and memory loss was not an area in which he had any experience. Thankfully, Yen Sid had dealt with his share of cases in the past, and would surely be able to assist him with Aqua – if they could convince her not to trust Vanitas. He did not know much about this Vanitas, save that he was Xehanort’s apprentice, but Terra and Ventus’s descriptions were enough to make him bristle. If this continued, perhaps he would pay his friend a visit.

“She’s scared of me, Master,” Terra mumbled. “I don’t know why, but she doesn’t want me anywhere near her.”

Ventus groaned, head in his hands. “Seriously, Terra? By the sounds of it, you were practically kidnapping her!”

Terra’s face coloured. “She wouldn’t listen! How else was I supposed to get her to come with me?”

“Enough,” Eraqus said firmly, “this is not the time for bickering.”

Simultaneously, the boys bowed their heads and said, “Sorry, Master.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Eraqus walked in-between them, looking from one to the other. “It is critical that Aqua is returned here,” he told them. “Once that is done, I shall summon Yen Sid to assist me in recovering her memories. I cannot tell you how to bring her back, but there are a couple of spells I can teach you to ease the process.”

He had never seen his apprentices so attentive and intense during their training as they were today. Ventus did not goof off once, and Terra picked up the spells at a speed that would have made Aqua proud. He knew the thought of her in trouble was what had motivated them to such lengths, and it warmed his heart to see that their bond was so strong. Perhaps, if Terra had his friends beside him, the eldest apprentice would succeed in his internal fight against the darkness.

“The rest is up to you,” he told his sweating apprentices.

“Thank you, Master.”

Ventus, still bursting with energy even after their session, took off immediately, his glider soon becoming a streak in the sky. Terra was slower to follow, and he stared at the sky with an unreadable expression.

“Terra?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Bring her home.”

He nodded, his features set with resolve. “I will.”


	27. Light

The light was good; the light was merciful; the light was noble, kind and a gift to the worlds. All of this Vanitas knew from overhearing Eraqus. From his own experience, Vanitas knew that the light was also naïve and oftentimes, stupid - not to mention too cowardly to finish the job.

But somehow, through all of that, it had slipped his attention that the light could also hit pretty freaking hard.

He how no idea how it had happened, he hadn’t even thought it possible, but Terra and Ventus had ambushed him. Initially, they’d just tried to knock him out so that they could go hunt down Aqua, but Vanitas couldn’t have that. He’d stood his ground and fought, but eventually, even he had to notice that he was losing ground. It wasn’t because of Ventus – he could wipe the floor with that guy – but because of that blasted Terra. It was like wrestling with an ox!

“This has been fun, gentlemen,” Vanitas said, twirling his keyblade as he backed away from his two opponents, “but I have a previous engagement today – and I’d hate to keep her waiting.”

Ventus’s mouth dipped into a frown. Terra’s reaction was much more dramatic, complete with bared teeth and a roar. “Stay away from her!”

Vanitas pretended to think it over. “Hmm, how about no?”

Laughing, he summoned a portal and prepared to depart. But then, just as the portal began to take form, Ventus thrust his keyblade forwards and shouted.

The tip of his keyblade exploded in a dazzling light that spread outwards in a ripple. Vanitas shielded his eyes, stepping away from the source. Unbeknownst to him, when the light collided with the portal, the latter faded away.

When the spell ended, he turned, expecting his escape to be waiting. Instead, there was only air. “What?” he exclaimed, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

“You’re not running this time,” Ventus said firmly. “Just take us to where Aqua is, and then leave her alone.”

“Weren’t you listening the first time?” Vanitas sneered. “I said no.”

Upon hearing Vanitas refuse his request, Ventus appeared at a loss as to what to do next. Unfortunately, Terra didn’t have any similar problems. He hefted his giant keyblade up, swiping it through the air to emphasise his next words.

“Then we’ll take you out so you can’t follow us!” he declared.

Vanitas grunted, saying nothing, but really, he was getting a bit nervous. They’d cut off his avenue of escape, his safety net, and Terra had already proven to be a great fighter. Plus, he couldn’t do anything that would risk grievous injury to Terra – Master Xehanort would kill him.

“You can try,” Vanitas said, “but I’ll be the only one walking away from this.”

He saw Ventus hesitate, but that stupid Terra didn’t look the least bit fazed.

“Aqua is coming back with us,” Terra said. He swept his keyblade up into a battle stance. “Her _real_ friends!”

Vanitas clenched his fists and snarled.


	28. Dark

“Mademoiselle, wait!”

Aqua turned to the person that had called her. Balding and plump, he was a man with large tuffs of white hair by his ears, a white moustache and a panicked look in his eyes. Running up to her, he gasped for breath, hands on his knees for support.

“Forgive me, but you mustn’t go that way,” the man said.

“Why not?” Aqua frowned, confused. Vanitas hadn’t told her about any off-limits area in this world. Then again, he did enjoy messing with her mind.

The man waved his hands wildly. “There’s some sort of scuffle down there. Oddest thing I’ve even seen; three men fighting with giant keys.”

Oh no. Fighting to keep herself calm, she asked, “Is one of them wearing a mask?”

“Yes, yes!”

“And the other two, are they a blond and a brunet?”

“Indeed!”

She closed her eyes. It was exactly as she feared. “Thank you, sir.”

With that, she took off in the direction of the boys, ignoring the man’s cries of, “Wait, that’s the wrong way!”

Her heart was in her throat was she ran, and she tried to tell herself to stop worrying so much. Vanitas knew what he was doing.  He was a strong, skilled fighter who had faced these two several times before and was clearly confident, if not overly cocky, in his ability to win a fight; he combined speed and strength with such finesse that it made others look like amateurs in comparison. Surely, he was fine. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that he was fighting and having a great time.

Which was why the reality was such a shock.

Vanitas was slumped against a wall, limp. His precious helmet was still on, but his bodysuit was torn on his ribs, exposing a nasty gash underneath. Void Gear looked as though it had been carelessly tossed aside, and there was blood on both the blade and the handle.

“Vanitas!” She forgot about the other two and kneeled by him. His head lolled sideways, and weakly, he slurred her name.

So occupied she was with him, that it took her a moment to understand why her prey hackles suddenly stood on end.

“Aqua.”

She stood up and stared into their eyes, seeing the desperate plead there. Some lonely, lost part of her responded, pulling her to them, and she was torn. But the hope in their eyes died when Aqua leaned down and hooked her arm under Vanitas, choosing the dark over the light.

Terra raised his keyblade, jaw set, eyes fixed on her, but Ventus stopped him before Terra could utter his spell. Seeing that opening, Aqua did something she thought she would never do.

She cast Firaga right at Ventus’s face.

In the turmoil that followed, she grabbed Vanitas and fled. After leaping off a bridge, she pulled Vanitas underneath and hid.

Sobbing, she cradled the wounded boy, trying to forget the horrible sound Ventus had made.


	29. Faith

Vanitas twitched in discomfort as she laid him against the wall; however, having fallen into unconsciousness some time ago, he did not object. His body glistened with spilt blood that stained parts of his bodysuit, making her hands come back red.

Aqua shuddered. She could hold her keyblade to his throat, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything - not even offer a snide comment. She hated seeing him like this; Vanitas wasn’t meant to be helpless. At times, it didn’t seem like he was meant to be anything but strong.

He showed no signs of waking, and she knew that she couldn’t leave him to take care of himself. He was still bleeding, and the wound was so big. It stretched from his armpit all the way down to the bottom of his ribs, and if she looked closely, she thought she could see bone. He needed help, now.

She rolled her sleeve up, and with dread, placed her hand against his bloodstained chest. She remembered what it was like when Vanitas had healed her, to have those two forces at war inside her. Vanitas was probably about to go through the same pain.

She closed her eyes. She had to forget; there was nothing else she could do.

Vanitas jerked violently, his back arching. He must have regained consciousness for a second, for an unversed suddenly spawned next to them and pounced, pinning her to the ground. She tried to squirm out from underneath, to return to Vanitas and finished what she had started, but the unversed wasn’t budging. It roared, blasting her face with a humid cloud, and its teeth snapped dangerously close to her neck.

She bashed it over the head with Rainfell, and it scrabbled back, planting itself firmly between her and Vanitas. It paced back and forth, hissing, slashing with its claws whenever she got near.

Behind it, Vanitas continued to lose blood.

“You have to let me through!” she cried. “He’s hurt; if I don’t help him, he’ll die!”

The unversed snapped at her.

“He needs help!” She stepped forwards, staring into the eyes of the snarling creature. “Please.”

For a long moment, it held her gaze. Then, with an angry snort, it moved to the side. She watched it warily as it let her pass, partly expecting to feel teeth in her flesh.

She kneeled in front of the masked boy and taking a deep breath, cast her spell again. More unversed spawned, crying and shrieking in pain. Her hand shook; there were so many. If they attacked when her back was turned, she wasn’t sure she would win.

No. She needed to stop thinking about that and have faith in them, in him.

She continued her spell, watching as skin covered the hole. Then, a hand grabbed her wrist. Vanitas had woken.

The unversed gathered around him, whining and pawing like dogs greeting their master. But he ignored them, looking at her. In that brief, silent conversation, he said everything.


	30. Colour

“How did they find you anyways?”

“Well,” Vanitas began, twirling his wrist as he lay on the hill next to her, “I’m certain they were actually looking for you.” He shrugged. “Bad luck?”

She nodded, and the two of them watched a hazy unversed take form as Vanitas urged it into being. Unfortunately, it appeared Vanitas was too peaceful right now, as the unversed’s body started to disintegrate even before it was ‘born’. Reaching over, Aqua jabbed him sharply in the gut and as a result, the unversed’s features sharpened.

“It’s still purple,” she said with disappointment.

The back of his head resting on his crossed hands, Vanitas sighed. “Yes, Aqua, it’s purple, just like the rest of the floods. Would you like to tell me that the sky is blue?”

She scowled. “Vanitas, you promised you would try.”

“Aqua!” His voice was high, mimicking hers. “The floods are purple; it’s a fact!”

“Why are you fighting me so hard on this? I just want to see some new colors.”

“I’m not an art gallery!” he snapped.

She leaned back, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. Clearly, Vanitas wasn’t going to cooperate on his own, but maybe, if she went about it a little sneakily, she could persuade him.

Scoffing, she fit an uncharacteristic sneer on her face and said, “Yes, I can clearly see that.”

She felt his stare suddenly intensify. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Not ten words out of her, and already he was mad. She suppressed a smile; Vanitas was very much overconfident and tended to be quite arrogant as well; it made sense that he would be infuriated by his own arrogance being aimed back at him.

“Well,” she said casually, “this idea was a long shot to begin with. Something like that would require a certain amount of _finesse_ and _care_.” She stressed the two words generously, imagining Vanitas’s face growing red under that mask.

“Is that so?” Just as she hoped, he took the bait. “Watch me!”

She didn’t keep track, but she knew they spent a long time there. Vanitas’s initial anger and later, his growing annoyance meant that the floods were easy to summon; however, summoning a different colour still evaded him. Several times, he tried to give up, but she pushed him to continue.

It was a miracle when it finally happened, and they were so shocked, the unversed immediately disappeared, lacking the emotions on which it fed.

“Vanitas?” she said in a hushed voice.

“I know!” He sounded like a child opening a present.

He summoned one blue flood, then another and another, until an entire army surrounded them. He reached out in amazement, petting a flood’s head.

“Now do you see?” she asked.

“I guess I can change their colour,” he admitted.

“No, not that.” Vanitas looked confused, so she continued. “You say the unversed can’t do good, but you also said they could only be one colour. See, you can change them.

“ _You_ can change.”


	31. Exploration

Master Xehanort held back a sneer. “And what sort of explorations require this much of your time?”

To anyone else, Vanitas was an enigma. His domed helmet shielded his face, and all his emotions were expressed in various shades of haughtiness. However, Xehanort had long studied the various gears of Vanitas’s mind, and had an unparalleled understanding of the boy. He was willing to wager that he knew Vanitas better than Eraqus knew his apprentices. Thus, To Xehanort, Vanitas’s anger, and nervousness, at being questioned was obvious.

Like always, there was no fear in Vanitas’s reply. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, “and I’ve just about exhausted the range of my emotions. I need to find other hearts to spawn the unversed from.”

“And what is wrong with the current ones?”

“I like diversity.”

Xehanort said nothing. As he turned away, Vanitas’s fists loosened. To himself, Xehanort scoffed; the foolish boy thought he hadn’t noticed!

“This is why you have been so slow to respond to my summons?” Xehanort asked.

Vanitas shrugged. “I don’t want anyone to get suspicious when I disappear.”

Sand blew around them. It was silent. One was too busy contemplating to speak, the other too worried he would give something vital away. Slowly, Xehanort made his way down the row of forgotten keyblades, walking away from Vanitas.

Xehanort turned suddenly. “And just whom do you mean by ‘anyone’.”

There it was: that hesitation that indicated Vanitas had just been caught in a lie. Still, the apprentice continued to protest his innocence, claiming, “No one in particular.”

Xehanort smiled. Vanitas, being made of negativity, was a creature of pride, and resented his role as another’s pawn. To satisfy some of his burning desire for revenge, sometimes Vanitas would play these games, trying to pull the wool over his Master’s eyes.

Thus, it was with great satisfaction that Xehanort asked, “Is it Aqua?”

This time, Vanitas didn’t even try to lie.

“Am I right?” But, of course, Xehanort knew he was. It was not hard to notice that Aqua was no longer trailing after Ven and Terra, or that the latter two had suddenly banded together and were prowling the worlds with an aggression and intensity that frightened their enemies. About the only thing that would cause that, was if Aqua had been forcefully taken out of the picture. However, she must still be alive, or Terra would have given into the darkness.

“Yes,” Vanitas said.

Xehanort nodded, certain of the girl’s current state. Not only was she a friend of the one Vanitas despised, but she had bested Vanitas in their previous skirmishes. He would be hungry for vengeance, keen to prove his power and dominance over her in every way.

Xehanort summoned his keyblade, and before he could say a word, Vanitas cried, “No!”

A pause.

“She’s no threat,” Vanitas said. “Trust me, she wishes she was dead.”

Xehanort considered that, and then dismissed his keyblade.

He saw no harm in letting Vanitas indulge his darkest urges.


	32. Shades of Grey

The crowd was grouped around the well, their fear so thick that joining them almost felt like pushing through a barrier. He was not sure how it happened, but a child had fallen inside, and none knew how to reach her.

Beyond the suffocating throng, Vanitas watched. Although it was physically impossible for him to see the well, he still ‘saw’ the unversed sitting on it. At first, the unversed had been met with fear, but it did no harm and soon, matters returned to the child. Thus, the unversed sat unmolested, staring down into the well.

Vanitas growled. What did it want? He forced it back when it got too close to the edge. Aqua would kill him if he allowed it to hurt a child. Yet he knew the unversed had no desire to harm, because he did not. In his emotions was the familiar flavour of rage, both at the child and the crowd, but not a rage that summoned his keyblade. He was angry, with the child for being stupid, with the crowd for getting in his way.

Angry that no one did anything.

With that thought, the unversed inched closer to the edge and again, he forced it back. The unversed was an extension of himself, and yet he did not understand what this one was telling him. The emotion that had spawned it was a puzzling one that Vanitas had not understood. It was still a negative emotion, based on wrath and misery, but something about it felt off; it didn’t belong.

The unversed looked at him, asking him.

Vanitas hesitated. The unversed meant no harm, but he could not trust it. It came from a black heart, a dark heart, from evil. The unversed _couldn’t_ do good, no matter what Aqua said.

So he said no.

Clouds passed over the sun, casting the land in shadow. The child was still stuck in the well, the unversed still waiting, and he . . . he was still there. He could not pull himself away; that emotion, the strange one that had brought the unversed forwards, wouldn’t let him. Again, the unversed asked, and he shook his head, tearing his gaze from the scene and staring at the sky.

There were storm clouds, and he could hear distant thunder. He frowned; if it rained, the well would fill. What would happen if the child was still there?

He closed his eyes as a sudden thought struck him. The unversed came from a black heart; but black, black was just another shade of grey, wasn’t it?

The unversed asked, and he said yes.

It leapt into the well, and he knew exactly when it grabbed the child.

Afterwards, the unversed returned to him, its emotional source gone. Upon seeing where the monster came from, the crowd swarmed him – but not how he had anticipated. They did not attack him, but they cheered him, accepted him, _loved_ him.

For the first time in his life, Vanitas smiled.


	33. Seeing Red

Aqua considered herself a patient person. Certainly, between she and Vanitas, she was the kind, gentle one.  Therefore, it confused her that the green-skinned witch would anger her so easily, especially since she had heard worse comments from her friend.

Still, something about Maleficent invited aggression. She had only to lay eyes on the witch before feeling stirrings of unease. It was like what she had felt around Vanitas in the beginning, only more intense. However, while she had controlled herself around Vanitas, she could not speak to Maleficent without holding Rainfell.

A good thing, too, as the witch was quick to attack.

Like her, Maleficent used spells as her primary offense. There was a familiarity to them, although Aqua had never seen them before. In fact, this entire scenario evoked déjà vu.

_“He fully embraced the darkness within himself . . .”_

Hearing those words inside her head gave her pause, and Maleficent was quick to react. Her spell clashed against Aqua’s hastily cast Firaga spell. Both broke apart, showering the battleground with motes of red and green flames, so that they were seeing red and green everywhere they looked.

On her floating rock, Maleficent cackled. “I was informed that you were . . . _unwell_ , but it appears you recover more quickly than I had anticipated!”

It was easy to ignore the taunt when Aqua had no idea what it meant. Maleficent seemed to have been expecting some kind of reaction, evidenced by her raised eyebrows, but then she smirked and threw herself into the fight again.

It was a long, hard fight, but there was one thought that kept Aqua going: she was winning. She scored one devastating blow after another, cart-wheeling and dodging Maleficent’s counters in-between. Despite the fact that Maleficent would probably kill her if she lost, there was something refreshing about completely losing herself in a fight. She was reminded of the time that she suddenly remembered that she had a Master. Maybe this fight would unlock more of her past.

One last diagonal slash, and Maleficent was leaning on her staff for support, defeated. Or so she thought.

“Don’t look so triumphant yet, child,” the witch said. “You have only tasted the power of darkness.”

Oh, Aqua was more familiar with the darkness than Maleficent knew; however, she was still caught off guard when the witch began to change.

“How . . .?” Aqua murmured as she faced the dragon in front of her.

Maleficent roared.

Both refused to back down.

They were about to lunge at each other, when Vanitas landed between them, thoroughly annoyed.

“Maleficent, can you back off?”

The dragon growled, but didn’t attack. In fact, it was ignoring Aqua to stare at Vanitas.

“I’ll explain,” Vanitas promised.

Aqua frowned. “Explain what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” When Aqua failed to agree, he sighed. “It’s a misunderstanding. Just leave us alone, okay?”

She turned, about to leave, but then thought of something. “Why . . .?”

But they were already gone.


	34. Forgotten

Maleficent’s spidery fingers curled around the top of her staff as she cackled. “So, the maiden has turned her back on her friends . . .”

Leaning against the wall, Vanitas laughed along. “She’s convinced they’re out to get her.”

The witch’s smirks were always sinister, laced with the smugness of a cat. It didn’t scare Vanitas, not when his own were much more psychotic and predatory.

“I wonder then,” Maleficent said, “if she would be willing to reconsider my offer.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. The answer to that question was a resounding no. But, it may be useful to keep Maleficent thinking otherwise, since he needed a huge favour from her anyways . . .

“I’ll see if I can talk her into it,” he lied.

Maleficent smiled, pleased. It was almost motherly, but he wasn’t fooled for a second.

“I would have used you,” she said, “but you, child, are so dark that you would not get within a mile of a pure heart.”

“I know.” He stood up straight, and walked towards Maleficent, speaking all the while. “But, I’ll need one tiny favour in return.”

From Xehanort, he knew bargains always interest Maleficent. Indeed, he could read the curiosity on her face.

“And what might that be?”

His tone dropping, he said very seriously, “Don’t tell Xehanort.”

“No?” A raven flew through the window, perching on Maleficent’s shoulder.

“Xehanort will kill her,” he said, “and then you’ll be out of luck.”

The raven croaked as she scratched its chin. “Then, perhaps, this little story is best kept between us.”

Vanitas grinned. Xehanort sure had a way of picking allies; he wondered if his Master knew they would all turn on him the second it was to their advantage.

Just when Vanitas thought he was in the clear, Maleficent spoke. “However, I must know, what is your safeguard against the girl?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“When she tries to abandon you for them, how will you dispose of her?”

Vanitas hid his nervousness with a chuckle. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Maleficent smiled, and her smile held traces of the sadistic glee his usually had. “Come now, child. The mind may have forgotten, but the heart has not. In time, her heart will draw her to them, and then you will be the forgotten one.”

He felt dizzy. Aqua would _leave_ him? It was something that he had always known, something he remembered every time he thought he felt himself growing too attached, but to hear it said out loud drove it home.

“I know that!” he snapped.

“Do you?”

He avoided the question. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do.” A note in Maleficent’s voice said that she knew he was hiding something, but he had her agreement.

He left for the empty streets. He knew he should go find Aqua, but the words echoing in his mind held him back.

 _“In time . . . you will be the forgotten one._ ”

He closed his eyes.


	35. Burn

A silent agreement had been made not to talk about last night. Still, there was an uneasy feeling between them, and so many sentences were left unfinished. Finally, as Vanitas was about to open the door, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Who is Maleficent?”

Aqua heard Vanitas growl. “No one of consequence.”

 “That’s not good enough,” she said.

Still facing the door, he evasively said, “A friend of a friend.”

Carefully, slowly, she repeated, “A friend? But. . .”

 _What kind of person would be her friend_?

It was an extremely rude and ignorant thought, but Maleficent gave her shivers.  There was something off about that witch, even ignoring the aura of darkness. Maybe it was that smile on her face, like the one that a cat wore when it cornered a mouse, or the fact that Maleficent had attacked first; either way, Aqua did not trust her.

Naturally, Vanitas took her question in all the wrong ways. “But what?” he demanded.

“She’s so . . .” Aqua tried to think of a better word, but there was only one that came to mind, “ . . . dark.”

Vanitas laughed eerily. “No darker than me.”

“That’s different!”

A few moments of silence passed before Vanitas released his hold on the doorknob. He turned, studying her with invisible eyes. “How so?”

She swallowed, wary of the trap he was leading her into. “It is.”

“See, now _that’s_ not good enough, Aqua.”  He approached her slowly, the same way a lion would stalk its kill and for a moment, she wondered if what she had just said was entirely wrong. He leaned on the table across from her, drumming his fingers. “I’ll give you ten seconds to think.”

She used all that time, trying to figure out to explain the wisdom her heart whispered to her. Vanitas grew more and more tense the longer he waited and finally, at the ten-second mark, he threw his hands up in the air and walked away.

“You can’t think of anything, can you?”

“I can!” she cried. “I just don’t know how to explain.”

Vanitas didn’t answer. He had his back to her, and it was impossible to guess his feelings. Standing up, she approached him from behind.

“Vanitas?” She laid a hand on his shoulder.

He threw her against the wall.

For the first time in a long while, she was scared of him.

Pinning her, he snarled, “It’s always about that, isn’t it? Because when it comes down to that, you will always choose light.”

His voice as raw as she had ever heard it, he rasped, “You will always choose _them_.”

“Vanitas, I’m your friend!”

His laugh _burned_. “You’re not my friend,” he hissed. “You’re just a stray who keeps following me around  because every once in a while, I’ll throw you a scrap.”

They stared at each other. After a minute, Aqua left without a word.

The slamming door held all the finality of a judge delivering his verdict.


	36. Dreamer

Time was measured by the dripping of the faucet.

Vanitas waited, his mind guiding him through dozens of scenarios as he wondered how he was going to extract himself from this mess. Sprawled out on a couch, he kept an eye on the door. It was Aqua’s motel room; she had to come back eventually.

However, as the light waned and shadows began to creep across the floor, he had to accept that wasn’t true.

He sat in Aqua’s room, alone with nothing but the darkness to keep him company.

That’s all he ever wanted, wasn’t it?

There was only one candle to light the room, and it sat on a round table by the other end of the couch. Vanitas moved his feet so that he could see it, and its waving flame was reflected in his helmet.

He should tell Xehanort, confess all and end this. She would leave him; Maleficent knew it, _he_ knew it. Why risk everything for an endeavour destined to fail? It reminded him of that puppy he had found; it had been way back when he had just separated from Ventus, and the puppy had followed him after he’d rescued it from some monsters. He had seen no harm in keeping it, and brought it back with him to his Master.

Xehanort had snapped its neck. It had been the only time Vanitas needed that lesson.

Now, here he was again, laying claim to something that wasn’t his. Things wouldn’t end well, they couldn’t; either Xehanort would find out, or Ventus and Terra would break her, or he would give into his violent urges in a heat of rage. It was inevitable.

Sometimes though, when he was at his weakest, he thought otherwise. He saw things working, of him somehow breaking free from Xehanort’s grip, and not only having, but keeping a friend.

But Vanitas wasn’t much of a dreamer, and he would shut those thoughts down. Aqua was a warrior, not a princess, and he was no knight. Their story wouldn’t have a happy ending.

He left then to look for her, asking around town. A sympathetic innkeeper confirmed that she had found another bed for the night and with his skills, it wasn’t hard to sniff her out.

He stood in the corner of her room, watching her sleep peacefully.

He stepped closer. Aqua was so vulnerable when she slept, didn’t she know better? He himself was trained to wake at the drop of a pin, ready to fight. But Aqua had no safeguards. She simply trusted people not to harm her.

She stirred. Vanitas backed into the shadows just as her eyes opened. Confused, Aqua sat up, rubbing her eyes. Cautiously, she said, “Vanitas?”

She hadn’t seen him yet. The peace of twilight would be a good time to make amends, wouldn’t it? He opened his mouth to speak, and then didn’t, instead teleporting away.

He was too scared to say sorry; too scared that she would finally reject him.


	37. Mist

She stood on a platform of glass. There was nothing else around her, save the blankness of space. However, this sky was empty of any stars or sun. But despite that, she could see. Maybe the light came from the glass, maybe it came from her, she didn’t know.  Whatever it was, it wiped the place clean of any shadows.

At the center of the circular plane, taking up the majority of the platform, was an image of herself with Rainfell. Her eyes were closed in this portrait, her face relaxed; it seemed that she was in a deep sleep. Beyond that, the platform was covered in a dense mist that reached up to her knees, hiding everything underneath.

Except for one thing. By the edge, there was another person contained within a purple circle. This one was familiar to her, too: face concealed by a domed helmet, it could only be Vanitas. She looked away upon seeing that, thinking about the last time she had spoken to him.

 _Did you really mean that?_ she wondered.

She wandered over to the center of the platform, turning in a circle as she looked all around. The mist, spawning out of thin air, constantly fell off the sides of the circle like a waterfall, yet never failed to keep the majority of the platform hidden from her.

As she stood there, marvelling in her surroundings, a cloud of doves rose from the mist, circling her before flying off into the distance. A voice spoke, one dripping with age and untold wisdom, and it came at once from everywhere and nowhere.

_Warrior of light . . ._

She gasped and tried to locate the source of the voice.

_Thou hast strayed from thy path . . ._

“What path?” she asked aloud. At her words, the curtain of mist began to draw back, retreating towards the edge.

_And thou must return . . ._

The mist drew back completely, tumbling off the edges of the platform.

Now, Aqua saw everything. She and Vanitas weren’t the only people on here; Ventus and Terra were, too, as well as a face she didn’t recognize. It was a black-haired man, old and wise, whose face caused the same kind of melancholy that Ventus and Terra had.

That melancholy only lasted for a bit before she smiled. This seemed right. Although Vanitas’s dark outline contrasted with the other three, it felt right to have all four here.

_But whether thou shalt be alone . . ._

The world darkened. Her portrait disappeared, but the other faces remained, the only radiance for miles. She understood then where the light came from: her friends.

But then, she realized, Vanitas’s face had disappeared too.

_Is thy ally worthy?_

“Yes,” she whispered, understanding on some unconscious level what the voice was asking.

Her eyelids felt heavy then, and the nothingness of sleep began to claim her.

_Then he may choose._

Before her mind faded, she asked, “Choose what?”

_To find salvation._


	38. Running out of Time

Somewhere in the sky, there was a bright yellow light. A fairy, small and delicate, flew alongside a green-clothed boy that never aged. A sparkling dust fell in their wake, filling the air with tiny crystals that scattered on the wind. Some of them fell onto Big Ben, tumbling down the sides as the great clock tower ticked away. One particular grain drifted down the face of the clock, past the large hand pointing at the ten, and was snatched out of the air by a gloved hand. It rested there for a moment, before the hand curled closed and crushed it.

_She will leave you._

“I know that!” Vanitas roared. He paced perilously close to the edge of the clock tower, grabbing at his smooth helmet as if he could tear that traitorous thought out of his head.

Breathing heavily, he stared down at his palm, and snarled at the foul reminder of light. He took great joy into grinding the sparkle into the ground.

However, once that vindictive pleasure was gone, he was left with nothing. Big Ben continued to count the seconds, each tick vibrating through his being like a heartbeat. It seemed that his whole life was measured in countdowns: a countdown until he forged the X-Blade, a countdown until he unlocked Kingdom Hearts.

A countdown until he was alone.

The boy and his fairy were gone now. As if mourning their presence, the tower’s bells chimed, and to Vanitas, the sound seemed to say that he was running out of time, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. At first, he stood stubbornly still, forcing himself not to feel. But as the time passed, emotion began to leak through the cracks of his mask.

He trembled as his heart filled with hate.

How _dare_ she? How dare she abandon him after everything he’d done? He’d spared her life, guided her, protected her. Now, she was leaving him and there was nothing he could do and she _couldn’t_ . . .

He laughed humourlessly; where was this hatred when he had been trying to kill her? It felt like stepping back in time, back when Aqua was nothing more than a person who made Ventus happy and thus, had to be eliminated. Void Gear appeared, summoned by his dark thoughts, and he appraised it. Maybe, if he took advantage of this moment, he could finally succeed where he had failed so many times.

Unfortunately, memories weren’t so easy to change.

Alright, so he wouldn’t kill her. But he’d be damned if he was going to sit around and wait for the other foot to drop. Vanitas was not a person who waited for bad things to happen; he either went out and fixed it or caused them himself.

Big Ben ticked away as Vanitas stood there, lost in thought. Then, he smiled grimly. He had the perfect solution.

She wouldn’t leave him after all.

Because she couldn’t leave him, if _he_ left _her_.


	39. Knowing How

Vanitas and her had never been silent for this long, but never had they had such a fight. Their previous fights - the ones she could remember, at least – had all been minor squabbles that could be solved with a simple gesture. This one was a bit more complex. It would probably require a little work to repair, an apology with thought placed behind it. However, it appeared, that Vanitas wasn’t even willing to try.

She held his note against her chest, eyes shadowed as the reality of the situation dawned on her. It was a simple farewell note, only stating “ _Goodbye_ ” in thick, smudged lines that looked as though the writer had been struggling not to tear the paper apart.

She didn’t know how it had come to this. He had been the one to fly into a rage; he had manhandled her and spoken so rudely. Why, then, was he acting like she had done something unforgiveable?

The paper crumbled as her fist tensed. She wished she could lose herself in righteous anger, if only to lessen the weight of betrayal that stole her breath away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in her nature, and instead, she let gloom surround her.

The truth was that she was lost without him. Pushy, confident, Vanitas had always made the decisions, the alpha of their tiny pack of two; he was the one who could open the portals, who lit the way and actually had his memories. Aqua was the beta, strong and quite capable of leading, but recognizing that she was not the best choice.

She wasn’t ready for this.

No. She had to stop thinking like that. She was on her own now, and she would have to deal with it. Stuffing the note into her pocket, she walked down the road, contemplating her next move. Maybe, if Vanitas wasn’t around to drag her through the multiverse anymore, it was time to go home. She smiled; yes, that seemed like a plan. There were sources besides Vanitas, Ventus, and Terra that she could use to regain her forgotten past.

However, that plan was tossed aside when she realized that she didn’t know where home was.

There really wasn’t a lot he had told her. She knew about Rainfell and magic, Ventus and Terra, and that at some point, she had had a Master. But actually, that was it. It shocked her that she hadn’t picked up on it before. Because really, Vanitas was awfully cagey when it came to _either_ of their pasts. When discussing his own, he was openly hostile. Hers, he was more subtle. Much like he had when she had asked about her Master, he used their friendship against her to manipulate her into silence.

 _But was it really friendship?_ With Vanitas’s departure, she wasn’t sure what to think. How much of those words had he meant?

Her hand instinctively reached for her missing Wayfinder. Upon grasping air, tears filled her eyes. This time, she truly was alone.


	40. Fork in the Road

Finally, Lady Luck was smiling down on her.

By chance, she’d stumbled upon the ruler of Radiant Garden and two of his apprentices. Upon hearing about her troubles, the ruler, Ansem, had offered to do what he could to help. He explained that he had a marvellous computer inside his lab, and with that, he may be able to extract some of her buried memories. It was a welcome offer, and she accepted warmly.

Despite his stern appearance, Ansem struck her as a kind and well-meaning person. His first apprentice, a black-haired man with dreadlocks tied into a ponytail, seemed reserved, but kind, as well. Ansem’s other apprentice though, the one-eyed man that she stayed away from, bothered her.  His single amber eye continued to watch her, and there was no missing that amused smirk. The black-haired apprentice, Dilan, had noticed, and he whispered, “Pay no attention to Braig. He enjoys his pranks.”

However, the frown on Dilan’s face told her that Braig’s actions were a surprise to him, too.

Upon reaching the giant computer, Ansem directed her to step into a white pod. She stared at him, uneasy, while he continued to assure her that it was perfectly safe. Not knowing how to say that her unease was due to Braig’s presence and not the pod, she obeyed.

At once, sleep took her.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a grassy field, standing on the only road for miles. A soft breeze brushed her hair out of her face, and bent the grass so that she could see the trees on the edge of the field. Curious, she looked around, not exactly sure what she was supposed to be seeing.

Without anything else to do, she followed the road.

Although it had appeared to be straight for miles, it wasn’t long until she reached a fork in the road. One path was worn, dark; the other was mostly hidden by the grass, but seemed lighter. Without hesitation, she followed the lighter path.

It led her to a great white castle that seemed to reach up and touch the clouds. _Home_ , her heart whispered, warming at the sight. The doors opened as she approached, inviting her inside.

Although memory told her that she had never seen these halls, she still knew exactly where she was going. She stopped in one room, whose walls were painted a soft blue, and knew that it was _her_ room.

She also knew that the next two rooms belonged to Ventus and Terra.

She frowned. She really did have a history with those two.

On her desk, there was a picture of the three of them, and she smiled upon seeing how happy they looked. They must have been such good friends and now . . . what were they?

She would never be able to see them as her enemies, and she knew they would never see her that way.

Maybe, she thought, she didn’t have to completely break ties with them.


	41. Start

She wasn’t taken out of the simulation so much as she was thrown out. Aqua wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly, the walls of the castle split into columns of numbers and loud static echoed through her ears.

She awoke encircled by white. The blankness made her wonder if she was still dreaming, and she reached out to brush her hand against the white shell. When her palm lay flat on its surface, the pod opened up like a blossoming flower. Now, she could see that this was reality. There was Ansem, furiously typing away with Dilan looking over his shoulder, and there was Braig, situated at a keyboard of his own. As she watched, Braig threw his hands up and cried, “Well, that’s it for this one!”

“Nonsense,” Ansem scoffed. “The pods were working fine yesterday.”

Leaning back in his chair, Braig laughed. “Sorry, Boss, but they ain’t working fine now.”

“Shall I summon Even to take a look?” Dilan asked.

“Not now,” Ansem said. “He’s busy with his research.”

Just then, Aqua stumbled out of the pod, and that seemed to remind everyone she was there. Dilan automatically snapped to attention as Ansem stood to greet her. Braig stayed where he was, an awful smile on his face.

Ansem steadied her. “I apologize, Miss Aqua, but it appears that this must be the end of today’s session.”

“Is something wrong with it?” she asked.

“Nothing that a little time cannot fix,” Ansem assured her. “Now, do you have a place to stay?”

“Oh, yes, I rented –”

Ansem didn’t let her finish. “Very good, but a visitor such as yourself should not be wandering the streets alone tonight; there is a storm on the horizon. Braig, if you may.”

Warning bells went off in her mind. “That’s okay,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t need an escort.”

“Aww, come on, Bluebird.” Before she could protest, Braig slung an arm around her shoulders. Her skin crawled as if trying to get away from him. “We’re all friends here.”

“I –”

“Then it’s settled!” Braig grinned at her.

Not knowing what to say, she let Braig lead her out of the castle, ready to summon Rainfell with a thought.

However, Braig did not act hostile, just a little . . . creepy. Remembering her initial reactions to Vanitas and Maleficent, she convinced herself that she was overreacting, and that Braig was no more dangerous than they were.

“So,” the one-eyed man said, “any luck?”

She forced a smile onto her face. “Actually, yes. I still barely remember anything, but I think I have some idea of where I lived before this. It’s a start.”

“Is that so?”

The warning bells came back full force. She stepped away from him, heart pounding as Braig’s grin grew. In response to her sudden movement, Braig had pulled his guns out, and they pointed stiffly at the ground.

He chuckled. “See you tomorrow, Aqua.”

She knew then she had made a horrible mistake.


	42. Nature's Fury

The memory pod no longer existed. It appeared that a fire had started overnight and destroyed it. While the news came as a surprise to Aqua, she was not overly shocked. She suspected Braig, but she had no evidence to back her accusation up. Instead, she pasted a fake smile on her face and thanked Ansem for his help.

Now, it was night again and Aqua was alone, knowing no more than she did before. Ansem’s predicted storm had broke, and the winds outside howled with nature’s fury. Rain hammered the glass, shaking it in its pane, and flashes of lightning revealed terrifying shadows.

Even without the noise, it was impossible to sleep with her racing mind. Why was Braig sabotaging her? And if it wasn’t him, then who?

She sat up in bed, resting her chin on her knees as she stared out at the pitch-black world. Tomorrow, she was gone.  She didn’t know where she would go, but she mistrusted Braig enough to leave.

Suddenly, there were footsteps outside her door.

In a stroke of luck, Aqua had managed to secure a place with two separate rooms: the kitchen and a bedroom. If there were steps outside the door now, while she was situated in the bedroom, then that meant that the intruder had already gotten past the locked door. Silently, Aqua summoned Rainfell and crept over to the bedroom door, pressing her ear against the wood.

Was that smoke she smelt?

A deep breath confirmed it, and she backed away. This intruder, whoever they were, was setting her room on fire. In fact, if she listened closely, she could hear popping wood.

And the steps were coming towards her again.

The knob turned.

“Firaga!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her spell struck the intruder square in the face, and she caught a glimpse of an amber eye before the door shut once more. It _was_ Braig then. She felt a swell of relief at knowing that there wasn’t an unknown assassin after her.

She didn’t stick around to fight. This area was too close to others; there was too much of a chance that an innocent would try to intervene and be caught in the crossfire.

So she leapt out her bedroom window and led him on a merry chase instead.

Braig was everywhere. Even with the storm’s aid, she couldn’t seem to shake him. The man seemed to be teleporting from place to place, always close, shooting as he did. She took some hard hits to her side and back, but he stumbled first after she correctly guessed his movements and hit him in the face. While he covered his nose, she fled, hoping to lose him.

It was an effort that would have been in vain, if a door hadn’t swung open.

“Aqua, in here!” a voice hissed.

She listened and when the door shut behind her, found herself staring into Ventus’s eyes.

She should have known things wouldn’t be that easy.


	43. At Peace

They didn’t look at each other. Rain continued to fall outside, almost muffling the slaps of Braig’s footsteps as he ran across the rooftops. Mustering her courage, Aqua raised her head, staring at Ventus’s half-lit face. The young apprentice didn’t meet her gaze.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Ventus shrugged. “I couldn’t let him shoot you.”

He finally looked at her, and she flinched at what she saw. In all the times she had seen him, Ventus’s eyes had always been clouded with hope, or shiny with tears. The blue eyes she saw now were as hard as flint. There was no emotion, none that he would let her see, and it was disconcerting for Ventus to be that guarded.

Her hand twitched with the urge to summon Rainfell. She ignored it, instead holding her fist tight at her side. With her most recent reflections about Ventus and Terra, she was determined not to jump the gun on this. They had been best friends once; the place where they lived she still called home. She was determined to find some way to be at peace with this part of her past.

Assuming, of course, that Ventus didn’t jump the gun himself.

“Your face looks fine.” Her face turned red as she realized what she had said.

“Huh?” It took Ventus a moment to recall that memory. “Oh, yeah. Healing magic.”

“That’s good.” She nodded absently.

Somewhere, thunder boomed. Ventus stirred, glancing over his shoulder as if someone had called him, and suddenly moved aside so that she could pass. Aqua hesitated, remembering Vanitas’s distrustful words about Ventus. But Vanitas had used her, so why should she listen to him?

She walked past Ventus. He followed her, watching as she settled down on a couch.

“Where’s Vanitas?” he asked flatly.

She felt a pang in her heart at the mention of _his_ name. “He’s gone.”

“Gone where?” Upon seeing Aqua’s face, he blurted, “Wait, he’s really gone?”

She nodded.

Ventus grinned. “That’s –!” She steeled herself, but the smile disappeared and Ventus surprised her. “That must have hurt,” he said instead.

“It did,” she said.

They returned to that unspoken rule not to look at each other. Ventus drew circles on a table with his finger. Aqua stared at her clasped hands. This time, Ventus looked first. Visibly bracing himself, he walked towards her, stopping just in front.

“Where are you going now?” he asked.

She sighed, turning her head to look at one of the walls and imagined that she could see the world beyond. “I don’t know. I’ll find somewhere.”

Ventus frowned. “By yourself.”

 “Well, it doesn’t seem like Vanitas wants to join me.”

She could almost hear Ventus’s thoughts in her head. His shoulders slumped as a puff of air escaped him, and in the soft, gentle voice one used to talk to an injured animal, he said, “You could stay here tonight – if that’s okay with you!”

She smiled.  “That would be wonderful, Ventus.”

“Call me Ven.”


	44. Heart's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're not entirely sure what Briag's talking about at the beginning, Vanitas lied and told Aqua's still running around because Mickey saved her from him.

Vanitas tried his hardest to look uninterested, particularly since the conversation wasn’t directed at him anyways. Well, supposedly it wasn’t. He could tell by the way that Braig kept glancing at him that all of this was meant to be rubbed in his face. Still, Vanitas was usually above such petty games (unless, of course, he was the one playing them), and counted on his own natural cockiness to keep him unmoved.

But the topic of death was one that always drew people in, and this particular tale was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah, so if we go off of what Mr. Dark and Scary here said,” Braig jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Vanitas, “then the mouse must have ditched her after rescuing her.”

“And I will presume you have taken care of matters?” Xehanort’s voice was light, however, there was a glint in his eyes that would have sent the heartless running.

Braig grinned wolfishly. “Sure did. Torched the pod, her place, and tried to torch her as well.” He let out a short bark of laughter, twirling his gun around in a circle. “The kid’s a little faster than I thought. Ended up playing cops and robbers in the rain.”

Braig’s smiled grew even wider, and Vanitas suddenly found it hard to breathe. Was she _dead_? The thought awoken unpleasant feelings in him: dismay, longing and an unparalleled rage that set his blood on fire. He fought tooth and nail to keep himself from pouncing on Braig to rip that infuriating look off his face.

“Is she . . . gone?” Even to Vanitas, the way he said that sounded strange.

“Nope,” Braig said. “The girl disappeared on me.”

“Then find her and complete your task,” Xehanort ordered.

Vanitas could hear the blood rushing through his veins. His mind, his heart, everything had stopped in the wake of that final order. There was a rumbling in his ears, similar to when the many voices of the unversed spoke at once; however, this sound was even more intimate, like it was his heart’s song ringing in his ears.

“Master, please!” He grabbed Xehanort’s sleeve, and the old man blinked in surprise. “Let me kill her.”

Braig rolled his eyes. “As if! You probably just want to play with her a little more. Not that I can blame you; she’s quite the looker.”

Vanitas growled. Sensing Xehanort’s eyes on him, he moved quickly to fix his mistake. “She’s _mine_!”

Xehanort harrumphed. “Do with her as you will, Vanitas. But cut off her feet this time so she doesn’t escape.”

Normally, Vanitas would have agreed heartily with that suggestion; however, the image of a bloody Aqua repulsed him, and he settled for a nod.

“Settle this whatever way pleases you,” Xehanort said, “but I want her eliminated.”

Vanitas marched right up to Braig’s face. “I’ll take care of this,” he said lowly.

Braig just chuckled.

Vanitas was left alone then, and he desperately tried to think of some other option.


	45. Reflection

It was so dark.

Vanitas stood on the circular platform, head bowed as he studied the glass. It was dyed in tones of red, gold and black, so dark in places that it was indistinguishable from the empty sky around him. The sky surrounded the platform like a cage, pressing inwards and preventing any light from escaping. A bleak, lonely scene it was, and really, what would have suited him better?

In the center of the platform laid a reflection of his own unmasked person, eyes closed and the place around it stained red. Blood, anger, evil – the colour could have been from any combination of the three, or none at all. As if boasting about how familiar they were with those three subjects, some unversed snoozed in the red, stirring as Vanitas’s eyes passed over them.

If one looked closely, the unversed’s trails were everywhere; their claws littered the platform with tiny scars. However, it could be said to be accidental, until reaching a particular spot on the glass. Here, there was another face, and it belonged to neither side of Vanitas’s heart. It was Xehanort, but barely recognizable due to the damage from the unversed’s claws and on occasion, Vanitas’s keyblade. But despite everything, it was still there.

Vanitas feared it would always be.

He felt a prickling in the back of his mind, and spun around just as the unversed shot to their feet. Something, a presence, stirred in the air around him. He summoned Void Gear, backing up into the middle of the platform as the unversed growled nervously. He had just enough time to glance at them before the light disappeared.

It had been dark before, but now, Vanitas couldn’t see the glass underneath his feet.

“Who’s there?” he demanded. When no one answered, he lit up his keyblade with a purple flame and shouted, “Answer me!”

Instead of listening to him, two doors appeared instead.

He blinked in shock. “What?”

_Wilt thou choose?_

The echoing words came from everywhere, knocking him back with their power. He looked around nervously, heart beginning to race. “Who said that?”

_Wilt thou choose the path chosen for thee?_

One door opened. The stench of blood hit him immediately. Beyond the door was the night sky, occupied not by the moon, but by Kingdom Hearts. Directly in the foreground, illuminated from behind, was the long sought after X-Blade, blood dripping down its shaft.

_Or wilt thou choose thy own path?_

The other door opened, and there was only a void, only the unknown, behind it.

“What in Hades does that mean?” Vanitas growled. He tapped into his emotions and tried to summon the unversed to stand with him, but they didn’t come.

_Wilt thou not choose?_

“I don’t know what you want, but you’re not going to get it!”

_Very well._

The doors disappeared and he could see again. Smirking in triumph, Vanitas dismissed his keyblade, only to hear the voice speak again.

_But in time, thou must choose._


	46. Perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, funny story. I was looking over this story when I noticed that the chapter numbers didn't line up with the theme numbers... turns out I forgot to post chapter 4. So yeah, I don't know what I'm going to do with that extra chapter/theme now. But we'll see

The sun shone down as she traveled the lonely road. Already, she missed Ven’s company. He had been a fabulous host, if not a little too careful. He spoke to her delicately, moved slowly around her as if she were a stray that might take off at any given moment. Originally, she just assumed he didn’t trust her; however, the genuine enthusiasm he tried to hide told her that it was something more. Simply put, he was overjoyed with her presence and terrified of frightening her off. It was a welcome change, especially after Vanitas had left her feeling abandoned.

Ven really was a nice boy, but such moments couldn’t last. Against his protests, she left the next morning, seeking to find some new place for herself. Maybe, she would even stumble upon her old home. There had been no sign of Braig following her, so far, and the bright sun seemed to say that it would be a good day.

Her hand reached up for the Wayfinder that wasn’t there, and she sighed.

“Where do I go now?” she said aloud.

Only birds answered her call.

Her features set in resolve, she followed the road’s dictate and went on her way.

It was surprising how little seemed to exist outside the stronghold of Radiant Garden. Once she passed through the gates and walked past the farms on the city’s fringes, civilization disappeared completely. Yes, there was the road, leading to some distant place, but no one to walk upon it. She saw no one on her journey, not even a footprint.

Yet, that didn’t shed the feeling of being watched.

A shiver ran down her back as she told herself it was nothing. Nature was unspoiled here, left to bloom into perfection. No doubt, there were hundreds of creatures lurking in the wilds, and any one of their eyes could have been on her. Still, her instincts insisted that there was another person here, watching her. Ven, perhaps? He had been awfully concerned about her leaving on her own. Maybe he decided to follow her, just to be safe.

Or maybe Braig had tracked her after all.

Her steps faltered. Her heart thumped, her chest tightened in warning. There was something _off_ about what she was experiencing, some abnormal variable in the world. Yet her sixth sense wasn’t warning her of any danger, so what could it be?

She looked around, closing her eyes afterward. It was then that she realized the birds had stopped singing.

A cool wave sloshed against her back and she stiffened, recognizing the cold tendrils of darkness. Rainfell flashed into her hand as she spun around, expecting a one-eyed stare. Instead, she saw her face reflected in a domed helmet.

“V-Vanitas?” she stuttered.

“Aqua.” His voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He approached her with the same careful gait Ven had used. She stood still, unable to believe her eyes.

Then, she remembered what he had done.

She stepped back.


	47. Everyday Magic

She had him under a spell. It was the only explanation for this gnawing in his gut.

He thought he had been doing fine without her. Sure, there had been his . . . weak moments, but he’d kept away. He’d been fine.

But now that she was almost within his grasp again, he couldn’t help but think how wrong that was.

It was a craving worse than starvation, whose roots slowly spread through his mind and transformed everything it touched. This was not your everyday magic at work here. In him, could be seen the domestication of the wolf; once, so proud and alone, and now fighting the urge to pounce on his tamer with his tail wagging. Even now, every prideful and rational part of his brain told him to run away, that eventually one would have to eliminate the other, but the bulk of his mind told him to stay near, to allow himself to be tamed.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he did, because he longed for the peace he had felt when he had been with her. Not happiness – he wasn’t capable of such things – but peace. When he was with her, and there was no outsider to disturb their balance, it was like she absorbed his negativity. Like her light absorbed his darkness.

And when that happened, sometimes, his heart . . .

“What are you doing here?” Aqua said that suspiciously, nervously, as if she had never lost her memories.

“I . . .” He trailed off. Where did he begin?

She backed further from him, and he was disappointed to see that she hadn’t dismissed Rainfell. In a counter gesture, he held his hands up, hoping to at least convince her that he didn’t want to harm her.

“Why did you come back?” she asked, sounding close to tears.

“Because I . . .” He swallowed and licked his lips. “I had to.”

She looked away. “You left.”

“I know.”

He took the chance to get closer. Aqua stiffened, and her grip changed slightly on her keyblade. He knew then that repairing this broken relationship was not going to be instantaneous. It was going to take work, humiliate him.

And strangely, he didn’t mind. Not if it got him the results he desired.

He swallowed his pride, and stepped closer. “It was a mistake, and I regret it.”

“A mistake,” she spat.

He sighed. “Maybe a bit more than that.”

He let her take her time to answer, even if anxiety drove him nuts.

Quietly, she asked, “Are you going to leave again?”

Wordlessly, he closed the distance between them and gathered her in his shaking arms.

Part of him recoiled. _If Xehanort finds out_ . . . the rational part of his brain warned. He was supposed to be killing her, for darkness’ sake!

But as he warmed up to the contact, he found he didn’t care.

“No,” he told her, “I promise.”

He would make this work. He had to.


	48. Umbrella

Sometimes, she hated being so nice.

She didn’t want to pretend everything was okay, didn’t want to forgive Vanitas. Even ignoring how he had left her, he had exerted every bit of his energy into manipulating her. She didn’t understand why, or what he could have possibly gained from those actions, but she was certain he had played her. Vanitas had been like the webbing of an umbrella, blocking her view of the sky and protecting her from the storm that was Ven and Terra. However, when he left, the umbrella had collapsed, and now she could see that the sky was clear. There had never been a storm in the first place.

Ven was a sweet kid. She had been _asleep_ in his presence, for crying out loud, and he still made no move other than to make her comfortable. If Ven really were the villain Vanitas had told her about, wouldn’t he have taken that chance to do something? Terra, she wasn’t too sure about – especially considering his rather aggressive actions towards her – but she was positive Vanitas had lied to her about Ven.

She just didn’t know _why_.

Vanitas looked up as she stared at him, and she quickly looked away. That hug had been a mistake. It had been the lonely, scared side of her that allowed it, the side of her that still smarted after Vanitas’s betrayal and her departure from Ven’s place. She wasn’t going to forgive Vanitas that easy, even if she had to force herself to be angry.

“So, where are we going?” he asked.

She braced herself and fought to keep out any shaking in her voice. “ _I’m_ looking for somewhere to stay. I don’t know where _you’re_ going.”

She stared straight ahead and he didn’t say anything, but she knew his eyes were on her.

“Braig,” he muttered.

“You know him?” She suppressed a sigh. Of course he did. It seemed that he knew everyone.

“We’re acquainted.” There was a certain pitch to Vanitas’s tone that let her know his mouth was curling into a snarl. “We should get out of this world.”

He opened a portal in front of them, and gestured for her to take the lead.

She did not. She planted her feet firmly, faced him, and asked a single question.

“Why?”

“Why?” He sounded surprised. “If it’s that big a deal, I’ll go first.”

“No, why are we running from Braig?”

He chuckled, leaning towards her. “Why are you?”

Coldly, she said, “I never said I was.”

Vanitas hesitated, as if uncertain whether she was serious. “I know him,” he said finally, “you knew him. He _really_ doesn’t like us. He’s dangerous.”

She snapped back, “Just like Ventus was?

Judging by the way he drew himself up, she had him there. “I know you were lying to me,” she continued. “Ven was never my enemy, was he?”

“We’ll talk about this later!” he snapped. “Just trust me, okay?”

And despite everything, part of her still did.


	49. Party

She couldn’t believe she was sitting with him on a hillside again. The tension rose up between them, courtesy of her. While she did agree with him about Braig – and was grateful that Vanitas could get her away from him – that didn’t change what had happened between her and Vanitas. Or what had happened between her and Ven.

“Why did you lie to me?” she asked. Part of her was tempted to leave then, but she would hear him out. She owed herself that much.

Vanitas released a deep breath.  The reflection of clouds floated across his helmet, though the sky was swallowed up by the black void.

“Ventus and I have always been enemies,” he said. “But you two . . . that only started after you lost your memories.”

“After you lied to me,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “Ventus didn’t understand what was going on. He thought you had chosen me over him.” He tried to shrug, but since he was lying down, it looked more like he had rolled his shoulders. “Seems that Terra got the same impression.”

“Me and Terra . . . ?”

“Same as Ventus.”

Drawing her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on them and looked away. There was so much information that she had to sort through, so much she had to reconsider. She started with what she thought she knew.

“I lived with them.” She looked up at the sky, wishing she could see the star that represented her home. “It was on another world in a white castle.”

“You did,” Vanitas said, “but it wasn’t just a party of three. Your Master was there as well.”

“And we never grew apart?” She glanced sideways at him for confirmation.

His shoulders slumped. “No.”

“Why hasn’t he come looking for me?”

Vanitas snorted. “Masters never do their own dirty work. That what the apprentices are for.”

She took that with a grain of salt. Aqua could never sit back and send someone else to make sure her friends were okay; she had to see it for herself. She wondered how her Master could.

“What’s his name?”

“Eraqus,” Vanitas said.

She mouthed the word, feeling its familiarity.

The silence returned.

Her spine straightened as she raised her chin. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think – about any of this.” Vanitas turned slightly towards her, and she went on, “I don’t if I can still be around you.”

“Why not?” He was fully facing her now, and she cringed at his tone.

“You _lied_ to me,” she stressed.

“I’m not lying now.” He seemed completely baffled as to why this was still a problem.

“But you did,” she explained patiently. “You deceived me, used me, and turned me against my friends.” Shaking her head, she set her chin down on her knees again. “How do I know you’re not lying now?”

“I’m not!” he insisted.

Tears burned her eyes. “But how do I know that?”

For once, he had no answer.


	50. Troubling Thoughts

She awoke to the sound of voices.

It was early morning, and the chirping of birds marked the rise of the sun.  The light was too bright for her tired eyes, and with a yawn, she got up and pulled the curtains close. Curiously, like she had never been here before, she looked around. Her room appeared untouched, however, the door was open just a crack. Beyond there was where the voices came from.

They continued to drone, rising in volume, as she approached the door. The voices died completely, as if aware of her presence, leaving the crack in the door as her only source of information. She glanced through it, and then drew back, huffing in frustration. All she could see was what appeared to be a black and red skin – Vanitas’s bodysuit, no doubt. Didn’t he realize that, currently, she didn’t exactly want to wake up to him?

She was about to reach over and close the door, when she heard a voice – and not Vanitas’s – speak.

“See, I’ve been having these troubling thoughts lately. Like is any of this for real, or not.”

She knew that creepy, drawling voice: it was Braig.

Panic sent her stumbling away from the door, far enough not to understand Vanitas’s reply, but not far enough to muffle Braig’s next words.

“It’s just a bit odd.” She heard a pair of clicks, presumably Braig readying his guns. “I mean sure, Bluebird’s messed up in the head, but I’d still think she’d put up a better chase. I mean one day? As if!”

“I didn’t say it was done,” Vanitas answered.

“Maybe you didn’t.” Braig’s voice suddenly dropped in pitch and volume, so that against her instincts, she had to inch closer to hear. “But she seems to suddenly have disappeared from Radiant Garden.”

So, he was still looking for her. And what was more, he’d followed her to _another world_. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend how.

She nearly screamed as the door suddenly shut. For a horrible moment, as she saw solid shadows between the wood and the floor, she expected Braig to rip it open. But nothing happened. She realized then that it had been Vanitas who’d closed it. He must have backed into the door and judging by the unmoving shadows of his feet, he had firmly planted himself there.

“What’s back there anyways?” Braig asked.

She knew the scuffle would occur before it happened, and dove for the window. The two-story drop nearly broke her legs, but hey, that’s what healing magic was for. A second after she darted out of the alleyway, she heard the door to her room slam open.

She expected Vanitas to find her, and he did. Voice raw, he cried, “Where did you go?”

“I heard Braig, so I jumped out the window.”

 “We need to leave . . .” He snapped his fingers. “Disney Town, he won’t look for us there.”

“It’s dangerous?”

His hushed tone was serious. “Not for you.”


	51. Stirring of the Wind

Now that Ven thought about it, Aqua was weird when it came to danger. She was always so firm, sometimes even stricter than the Master about mundane stuff, like walking, not running, up the stairs. But then, right after she’d finish telling him to wear armour in space, she would grab her keyblade and expect him to join her as she charged straight at a giant monster. He supposed it was something that developed during training, as Terra would sometimes be the same.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t like that about them. He admired their bravery, or as some folks put it, their complete lack of common sense. However, there were those instances where he wished they would run away from the monster, or resist the urge to investigate the latest rumour.

Or not walk into the portal opened by his worst enemy.

Yes, he had followed her. How could he not? Braig was after her, and she was travelling alone on a deserted road . . . it was a disaster waiting to happen. While Braig had not appeared, in Ven’s mind, a disaster had occurred. Vanitas had somehow talked Aqua into following him, and once again, she was gone.

 _At least_ , Ven reflected, staring at his Wayfinder, _she won’t run from me._

The Wayfinder had been irreplaceable in his and Terra’s search for their lost friend. He still wasn’t sure what kind of spell Aqua had cast on the charms, but it had served to lead him to her several times. The Wayfinder couldn’t tell him exactly where she was, but it could give him a world – and searching a world was much easier than searching the multiverse.

He shifted the course of his keyblade glider as Aqua suddenly jumped worlds. At least the one she was at now was a lot closer. As he neared the world and recognized it, his spirits lifted. Disney Town. It wasn’t a place he expected Vanitas to gravitate towards. Did that mean Aqua had escaped from him?

Ven landed and dismissed his keyblade. He observed the busy town around him with a sigh, wishing he could listen to the stirring of the wind and know where his friend had gone.

On the bright side, that fact that Vanitas was accompanying Aqua meant it was easy to ask people if they had seen them. On the bad side, it dashed his hopes that Aqua and Vanitas had split up. His desperation to find them only increased, and his feet skimmed the ground as he raced around town.

He found them finally, in the middle of a marketplace. There appeared to be no blood on either of them, so he stayed hidden, thinking of the best strategy for the occasion. He watched their interaction; something was missing between them, something important, but there was still a warm air. They were still friends.

Once again, Vanitas had sunk his claws in, and Ven had the feeling that he had no plans to leave.


	52. Future

“I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it!”

Aqua sighed as Vanitas ranted, his hands clamped over his hidden ears. His head turned from side to side like a cat that had been dropped into a room of dogs. She could almost hear him hiss as another merchant approached and offered them balloons, oblivious to the fact that Vanitas was about to explode.

She shooed the merchant away and turned to Vanitas, who appeared to be trying to claw through a wall. “Honestly?” she said. “You were the one that decided to go here.”

“To get away from Braig!” he snapped. He groaned as the sound of a parade rose in the distance. “I didn’t know they were having another festival!”

“I think it’s nice,” she said. “For once, no one’s trying to kill me.”

 “Nice?” he spluttered. “Are you seeing the same thing I am?” With a sweeping motion, he gestured to all the balloons, all the streamers and decorations, and all the colours. “It feels like a rainbow threw up here!”

“I like it,” she said defensively.

“Yes, of course you would. But look at these people: they’re all so happy and  . . . argh!”

“Hey, mister!” A small duck ran up to them. “Would you like to buy some ice cream?”

She honestly thought Vanitas’s glare would set the kid on fire. She grabbed Vanitas’s arm and whispered, “Just go along with it. And don’t you dare summon the unversed.”

She could hear his teeth grinding together as he said, “Fine.”

And suddenly, Vanitas was surrounded.

“Would you like to try my ice cream, too, mister?”

“How about mine?”

“No, try mine!”

“Why is your skin so weird?”

The children grabbed his bodysuit, stretching it and trapping him the same way the unversed had trapped her, so long ago. As Vanitas desperately tried to fend them off, Aqua sat back and watched. Yes, revenge was sure sweet.

At last, he extracted himself from the crowd and sprinted for a nearby alley. She followed and found him wiping off his suit as if he had just fallen into mud.

“They’re lucky I didn’t kill them,” he said darkly.

She ignored that remark. “Is it really that hard for you to just relax and have fun?”

“You call that fun? Look!” He peeled his left glove away from his hand and poked a finger through a hole. “They ripped it!”

He sounded so much like a child that she couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, maybe not that part,” she said, “but you have to admit, it’s nice to meet people that we won’t have to run from in the future.”

“Maybe we do need a break from running,” he admitted. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“Can’t you try?”

He stared at her. Surprisingly, he looked away first. “Fine, I’ll -”

A dog leapt out of nowhere and knocked him to the ground.  Ignoring his flailing, it licked his face relentlessly.

“I HATE THIS WORLD!”


	53. Health and Healing

Almost midnight, and the streets had just cleared. She and Vanitas sat on a bench, with the plastic corpses of balloon animals littering the streets, and streamers flapping lazily in the wind. Vanitas was picking multi-coloured lint off his bodysuit, snorting like a bull whenever he found one longer than his finger.

She watched him, smiling. Getting Vanitas to visually enjoy the festival was too much for her to imagine, but at least he’d held back his negative emotions. There had been a point where he stopped complaining, but that could have happened because he realized she wasn’t going to change her mind, and not because he had secretly enjoyed it. And considering the state of the unversed, she was leaning towards the former.

They roamed in packs nearby, gleefully popping balloons and tearing them into little shreds. One of them even swung from a loose streamer like a monkey swinging on a vine.

Adorable as it was, her smile faded. Despite the wonderful day she had and how hard Vanitas was trying, at times her mind couldn’t help but stray back to the root of their problem: between the lying, the manipulation and the abandonment, he had been awful to her. The thought drained her happiness and left behind the melancholy taste of uncertainty. That was still an issue that hadn’t been fully addressed –by her, at least. She couldn’t deny that she liked him, enjoyed his companionship, but sometimes, she felt like a lost lamb that had mistaken the wolf for the farmer’s dog.

Vanitas leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She knew her voice sounded strained. “I’m just thinking.”

Vanitas grunted and turned away to watch his unversed. Aqua released the breath she had been holding, reflecting on how she didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him what she really thought.

Vanitas suddenly slumped forwards, locking his fingers together as his hands gripped each other in his lap. “We’re still not okay, are we?”

Without looking at him, she whispered, “No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s what I thought.”

A flood wandered up to her, rubbing against her leg like a cat. When she didn’t push it away, it leapt onto her lap and held out the shell of a balloon it had just destroyed. Mumbling curses, Vanitas kicked it off.

“If you want me to leave, I get it,” he told her. “Proper health and healing doesn’t come without space.”

She said, “Thank you, but I don’t want this to be the end.”

“Three days, then? I’ll leave you alone for that time.”

“That would be nice,” she admitted quietly.

The flood, still at her feet, whined. This time, Vanitas shoved it away with his foot.

“Three days, then.”

As one, the unversed faded into a black mist and returned to him. He stood, his body abnormally straight, and took a few steps away from the bench. There, he paused.

Hesitantly, he said, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “you will.”


	54. Separation

Time passed so slowly.

It was refreshing not to have her day interrupted by long-lost friends, people trying to kill her or a certain masked boy, but she’d never realized just how much of her life revolved around them. Without anyone to look after or evade, her days were filled with boredom. Exploring a town could only take you so far.

That being said, the period of isolation had been good for her – on all fronts. She still had no idea what was going on with Braig, but she thought she knew where she stood in regards to the others. Vanitas, Ven, Terra, her Master . . . she didn’t want to lose any of them. However, she couldn’t keep standing in the middle, like a rope in a game of tug-of-war. How, _if_ , she could bring them together, she didn’t know; the hatred between Vanitas and Ven, and Vanitas and Terra, was noticeable. She only hoped that it didn’t extend to whatever relationship existed between Vanitas and her Master.

She didn’t want to choose, but it seemed that everyone else wanted her to. Vanitas, at least, seemed to be easing up on that pressure; Ven, she’d only just repaired her friendship with him; Terra . . . she’d only met him a few times, but she thought she knew what he would think.

And now that she had established that, it was time to confront the crux of the problem.

It was the last day of their separation, and she needed to make some kind of peace with what had happened. Her friendship with Vanitas, like any, had been filled with ups and downs. The question was whether they had sunk too low to rise again.

She buried her head in her hands. Where did she begin? She had no memories of how they had met, of how she had juggled his friendship and Ven’s beforehand. Those memories would have made it so much easier, if only to understand Vanitas. She knew Vanitas had intentionally driven her away from her friends because he was lonely and didn’t want to share, but sometimes, she heard an odd note in his voice that made her suspect it was something more. She just wasn’t sure what.

Neither was she sure about what to do with him. He had lied; he had confessed. He had separated her from her friends; he had protected her. He had left her; he had returned. It was one thing against another, weights on a balance scale that came out equal. Which side should she choose?

She stared out the window, up at the sunny sky. Frowning, she squinted; the blue, it reminded her of the new floods Vanitas had created.

And then it struck her: he had done all of that, but he had changed.

Didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

She heard a wise voice in her head, and her heart warmed as it spoke. _What does your heart say_?

And the way forward was lit.


	55. Everything for You

Terra paced furiously, creating a trough in the ground as Ven watched. The eldest apprentice spun around, mouth open as if to speak, but instead chose to return to his pacing. Ven shifted on his feet, feeling a bead of sweat run down his neck. Seeing Terra like this made him nervous. Knowing that his news was the reason Terra was acting this way was worse.

“I just don’t get it,” Terra said. “How could you be so stupid?”

Ven flinched. “Terra, I couldn’t just force her to come with me. I think she was still scared.”

But Terra wasn’t listening. “You know, I would do everything for you guys. Aqua’s the same way.”

Ven felt very small as Terra’s eyes bore into him.

“I thought you were, too,” Terra breathed.

“I am!” Ven cried. He ran right up to Terra, so that he had to crane his neck back to see the older boy’s face. “But Terra, you want me to . . . to _hurt_ her.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Terra snapped. “You didn’t have to do anything to her. She was asleep! All you had to do was cast the spell to make sure she didn’t wake up, and bring her back.”

“Against her will,” Ven said icily.

Terra clenched his jaw. Turning his back to Ven, he coldly stated, “It’s for the best.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t you want to get her away from that jerk?”

Ven took a deep breath to stay calm as he realized that Terra had been ignoring most of what he had said. “Maybe, we could just try talking to them . . . ?”

“How long did you watch them?” Terra demanded.

Ven rubbed the back of his neck. “Not long,” he admitted, looking away. “But Terra, I told you something’s different. Vanitas, he’s . . . he doesn’t feel so cold.  I really think we should just talk to them.”

“You also thought Vanitas had left her,” Terra pointed out. “Don’t you see?” He spun around to face Ven again, hands spread in an almost pleading motion. “He’s just messing around with us – with her. This is all a game to him.”

But still Ven hesitated, remembering what he had seen when he was in Disneytown. “I don’t know . . .”

“Damn it, Ven!” The tree splintered with the force of Terra’s punch. “Don’t you want to get her back?”

Ven didn’t answer, too occupied with the darkness he saw swirling in his best friend’s eyes.

“Ven?”

“O-of course,” he said.

“Then maybe you should start listening instead of arguing,” Terra spat out.

 _Like you are_? Ven almost said that, but stopped himself when he thought he saw Terra’s body flicker with a dark flame.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Ven asked.

“Go after her, obviously.”

Ven’s insides wriggled with worry. This felt _wrong_ , traitorous. But this was Terra, Ven could trust him.

He followed him, and pretended that Terra’s eyes hadn’t flashed yellow.


	56. Slow Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time!

_Aqua frowned as the next world came into view. Usually, worlds had a beacon, a bright light that marked where to land. This world had none, and as she drew closer, she couldn't see any buildings or an indication that anyone lived there. An empty world, then. They weren't common, but they certainly weren't unusual either._

_She turned her glider away. If no one lived on this world, then Terra and Ven had no reason to come here. Searching it would just be a waste of time._

_She sought out the nearest star, and pointed herself towards that. In the corner of her eye, she saw a glimmer of light . . ._

_She twisted out of the way moments before Vanitas would have crashed into her. Instinctively, Aqua's hand snapped open, expecting to close again on the handle of her keyblade. When her armoured fingers grated against each other, she realized she had no weapon. If she changed Rainfell back into its regular form now, she would be unable to move. Against Vanitas, that was like tying a blindfold around her head._

_Vanitas slowed down, and curved around to face her. There, he hovered, just a second away. Though his face was hidden, she knew he was completely focused on her; she could_ feel _his smirk. She shivered as it dawned on her that she was defenceless. But Vanitas was using his keyblade glider too; surely, that meant he couldn't use it to attack her._

_Vanitas tilted his head to one side and snapped his fingers._

_From all sides, unversed lunged at her._

_She pulled into a dive, pressing her body close to the glider as to avoid the unversed's claws. She was aware of Vanitas plunging after her, and quickly shifted her course for the world below. If she were to have any hope of defeating him, it would have to be on land. She darted this way and that, willing herself to go faster as the unversed followed close behind._

_Something sliced through her back. Her glider wobbled, losing speed as she gasped, and Vanitas took the opportunity to join her on the glider. She spun around and grabbed his wrists before he could throttle her or even worse, summon his keyblade, and the two of them wrestled as the glider continued to descend._

_Vanitas suddenly stopped fighting, and began spluttering curses instead. Against her common sense, Aqua looked down, eyes widening as she saw just how close the ground was. With Vanitas clinging to her keyblade, she brought her glider's tip up, trying to slow down . . ._

_The ground rushed up to meet her –_

* * *

She woke up. Feeling strangely anxious, she sat up and flinched as her head throbbed. It felt like she had hit it on something.

She didn't know why she felt so jumpy. A quick check revealed nothing amiss. Confused, but still tired, she tucked herself back into bed. In no time, the dark embrace of an uneasy sleep claimed her.


	57. Heartfelt Apology

" . . . and I mean seriously, from the bottom of my soul, I . . ." Ven trailed off thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "Hey, Terra, which sounds better: 'bottom of my soul,' or 'bottom of my heart?' "

With Earthshaker slung over a shoulder, Terra stopped walking, glanced back, and asked, "Ven, what are you doing?"

With a deceptive lightness, Ven said, "Oh nothing, just composing my heartfelt apology so that Aqua doesn't hate me after this."

Terra rolled his eyes and trudged onwards.

"You might want to make one," Ven said, "seeing as this is your idea."

"Will you give it a rest?" Terra snapped. "We don't need an apology. If anything, she should apologize to us."

Ven crossed his arms behind his head. "Yes, Terra, because it's totally her fault that she lost her memories and Vanitas is taking advantage of that."

Terra's face went red. "Okay, so Vanitas should apologize to us."

"That won't happen, will it?"

"No, it won't."

As they continued down the street, Ven leapt on top of a fence, his arms stretched out on either side as he balanced. He was still able to move and keep up with Terra, but that may have been because the older boy slowed down.

With a careful look at his best friend, Ven breached the subject that both of them had been avoiding. "We could always talk to them and give him a chance."

"No."

"Come on, Terra!" he whined. "Why are you so against this? At least then we don't have to sneak up on Aqua and ambush her like Vanitas would."

"Don't compare me to him," Terra warned, gritting his teeth. "This is the best way. Trust me."

"I do! See?" Just to prove it, Ven fell sideways off the fence, making Terra rush to catch him. "But we don't have to talk to Vanitas, just to Aqua."

"No," Terra repeated, "Vanitas has already turned her against us. This is the best way."

Ven spun around, his mouth dropping open in shock. Sure, he understood Terra's reluctance to speak to Vanitas, but to Aqua? What was going on?

"Terra . . ."

Terra didn't answer, didn't move either. His eyes were fixed on Ven's face. Actually, scratch that. They were fixed on a part of Ven's face: the area just below his left eye. Ven reached up, brushed that place with his fingers, and suddenly knew why.

That's where Aqua's Firaga spell made contact.

The reasons for Terra's behaviour became clear. Terra had always been really mad at Vanitas, but this dark aggression hadn't started until Aqua cast that spell. In that case, it wasn't just Aqua's situation driving Terra, but worry, too. Terra wasn't angry; he was _scared_. Like a psychic link had opened between them, Ven understood. Terra was terrified that they were losing her, not just to Vanitas, but to the darkness.

He was terrified that Aqua would fall so far, they wouldn't be able to bring her back.


	58. Challenged

With her stomach a jumbled knot of nerves, Aqua sat on the couch, staring out a window at the sun as it rose above the horizon. The third night had passed and it was time to bring all this uncertainty to an end, for better or for worse.

She heard a whoosh, and a cold breeze passed over her. She looked back and just as she expected, Vanitas was there, waiting. She patted the seat next to her in an invitation, but Vanitas declined. Instead, he crouched upon one of the couch's armrests like a bird, leaning forwards to ensure that he would hear every word.

The world seemed to close in around them and for a moment, Aqua couldn't remember what had brought them here in the first place. But Vanitas, never one for patience, brought them back to topic with a mumbled, "It's been three days."

"Yes," she said, still struggling to regain herself, "it has."

"And have you . . . ? Are we . . . ? You know." Vanitas was unable to finish any of his sentences, and she could see him growing more anxious with each word that was left unsaid. His fingers first flexed straight, then curved and dug into the fabric of his bodysuit.

"Yes, I've thought about it, about us. And," she took a deep breath, "I know what I want."

"You do? That's good." It didn't sound like he meant it; in fact, his body language said the complete opposite. He was turned away from her, fidgeting in exaggerated boredom. It was a pitiful sight, watching him try so hard to pretend that he didn't care, and she hurried to speak.

"I won't pretend that maintaining a friendship with you isn't hard," she said, and the entire world seemed to hold its breath. "But I suppose that every once in a while, everyone likes to be challenged."

There was a bit of silence as Vanitas absorbed her words. "So, we're still friends?" He sounded shocked, as if he had never expected this to be her decision.

She nodded. "We are."

She reached her hand out, and held it there. Vanitas glanced at it, and then looked back at her face. Cautiously, he extended a hand of his own, and it slid into hers. She let him make the next move and he did, grasping it tight. She thought she felt him shake.

"I'm willing to give you a second chance," she said, "but you have a lot to make up for."

"I know."

With that, he released her hand, and she brought it back to her side, marvelling at how much things had changed.

"Have you ever wanted to fly?" Vanitas asked her.

The change in topic caught her off guard, and she only nodded.

"Well, there's a world out there," Vanitas said, "where you can do exactly that."

He hopped off the couch, and this time, offered his hand to her.

"If you want, I can take you there."


	59. Exhaustion

"Where is he?" Aqua asked aloud, standing on the edge of an ocean-side cliff. Vanitas had told her to stay there, mumbling something about going to chase after fairies. Why he would do that, she didn't know.

At the tap on her shoulder, she turned around, expecting Vanitas to be there. Instead, there was nothing. She frowned in confusion. Save for the short grass, the cliff was bare, offering nowhere to hide. But she was sure that she had felt something.

"Up here!"

She looked up, and gasped as she saw a boy with green clothing in the air.

"Hey Tinker Bell, look! It's Aqua!"

"Uh, hi," she said, feeling off-balance as the boy flew around her. What appeared to be a trail of sparkles followed him, but a closer look revealed a tiny fairy also dressed in green. The fairy had two translucent wings which were almost impossible to see, and blonde hair done up in a bun. While the boy floated to a stop nearby, the fairy flew right up to Aqua's face and peered into her eyes.

"Did you find your friends?" the boy asked.

"I'm sorry?" Aqua held back a sigh as she, once again, found herself the only one unaware of past events.

"Ven and Terra, did you find them?"

Oh, that much she knew. "I did," she said, "but now I'm not sure where Vanitas is. He said something about flying."

The boy only appeared to have listened to the last part. "You want to go flying?" he asked eagerly.

"I would love to, but . . ." She had been about to point out that it was impossible, but then took note of the fact that this boy was already flying.

"Sure thing!" The boy reached for the fairy, who zipped away, and then pouted and stamped a foot in mid-air. "Come on, Tink," the boy groaned. "It's _Aqua_ , she's our friend."

She smiled as the boy continued to plead with the fairy, who rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be persuaded. She flew straight over Aqua, showering her with glittering rain. At first, Aqua felt nothing. Then, there was warmth in her body, a lightness, as if she were about to float away.

"I have to go," the boy said. "Just think happy thoughts, and you'll be flying in no time!"

They flew off, and Aqua was left alone. The wind seemed like it was about to lift her out of her shoes, and her muscles burned with excitement.

_He said think happy thoughts._

She closed her eyes and did so, until she worked them to exhaustion. Disappointed, she opened them, only to realize that she was already floating. With a laugh, she propelled herself upwards. This was easy! If only Vanitas was here to see . . .

She went to look for him, soaring high above the ground. While she didn't actually find him, what she did find made her eyes widen in shock.

Braig, Terra and Ven. Fighting.


	60. Accuracy

Braig looked as though he was having the time of his life. The gunslinger’s mouth was open in a feral grin as he attacked and then nimbly leapt back out of range. Terra snarled as the bullets crashed into his side, although that didn’t stop him from planting himself in front of Ven, shielding the younger boy from the worst.

Unseen in the air, Aqua glided closer, ready to call Rainfell. She was behind Braig so that even if the man looked up, he wouldn’t see her. Naturally, though, that made it easier for the other two. Ven saw her first, the tip of his keyblade dipping. Terra appeared too focused on Braig to notice her, but that was okay.

“Well, don’t just stand there, dudes!” Braig cackled. “I want this to be a bit of a challenge.”

Brag raised his guns to his shoulders, and they glowed purple as he cocked them and aimed. Terra growled, holding his keyblade ready, but Ven didn’t; he was watching her, waiting to see what she would do.

She didn’t disappoint. Pointing Rainfell at Braig, she said, “Blizzard.”

The spell burst from her keyblade, forming ice crystals in the air around her on its way to her target. It hit just as Braig was about to pull the trigger, and the one-eyed man could only blink in confusion as the mechanisms of his guns froze in place and frost built up on his clothes. It took only a heartbeat for him to make the connection, but longer for him to actually find her.

“Look who decided to show up,” he sneered.

She glided over him and touched down just in front of her friends, who immediately stepped into position on either side of her. It was amazing how, even with her memory loss, they quickly fell into sync.

“You’re outnumbered,” Ven said.

Braig shrugged. “I was before. Didn’t stop me from winning.”

“You weren’t winning!”

Braig chuckled, spinning his guns by the triggers. Quite abruptly, the ice broke off, freeing them once again to cause havoc.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Terra said. “He can’t beat us when  
we’re together.”

Ven grinned, and pumped his fist. “All for one . . .”

He looked expectantly at Aqua, who stared back.

“Right,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “amnesia.”

With that, Braig initiated the fight. The three of them scattered, surrounding the man as he shot through round after round. A couple minutes in and although he still disgusted her, she couldn’t deny that she had some new respect for Braig; he was very skilled at evasion, and his accuracy was fantastic.

But even he couldn’t fight three. Breaking away, he fled, calling, “See you dudes around.”

Ven cheered in victory. She turned to the younger boy as he said, “We did it!”

Before she could answer, Ven’s suddenly fearful eyes focused on a point behind her. She turned . . . to find Terra’s keyblade pointed at her.

“Sleep.”

Darkness washed over her.


	61. Irregular Orbit

Vanitas cursed and wiped the mud from his helmet. As if mocking him, the target of his previous pounce was sitting on a leaf, staring at him curiously.

“You’re mine!” he growled, lunging at it. The fairy zipped out of the way, flying around his head in an irregular orbit before disappearing into the bush. He snarled, and went after it.

It was a good thing that he was naturally sneaky, or else Terra and Ventus would have seen him.

He stepped back into the shadows, heart pounding at the close call. Strangely, the two boys appeared to be arguing; Ventus’s face was flush with anger as he shouted at a stone-faced Terra. Vanitas didn’t really care, of course, and was about to leave when he caught sight of what – no, _whom_ – was slung over Terra’s shoulder.

Without thinking, he broke his cover. Luckily, Ventus and Terra, being the _geniuses_ they were, still didn’t notice. They continued to fight while he absorbed the situation.

“I didn’t hurt her,” Terra was saying. “I don’t see why you’re so mad.”

“She was helping us!” Ven shouted.

“And now I’m helping her,” Terra said. “Look, it’s done. Let’s just get her back to the Master and finish this.”

Vanitas wasn’t even aware he was angry until after Void Gear appeared in his hand and the other two noticed him. When he did notice, however, it took everything he had not to charge right there, or at least release an unversed big enough to put a darkside to shame.

Terra narrowed his eyes. “Get lost.” Terra sounded grim, but there was a gleam of triumph in his eyes that made Vanitas nervous.

“Put her down.” Vanitas’s tone was flat, but only because he was trying so hard not to scream.

“Not happening.” Terra shifted so that the shoulder with Aqua was as far from Vanitas as possible.

As furious as he was, Vanitas doubted his chance against the two of them. So, he resorted to words. “So, instead you’re going to kidnap her. Some friends.”

“Don’t play that game with us,” Terra said. “If you were her friend, if you were a _real_ friend, then you would be helping her get back her memories, not stopping her.”

Vanitas’s retort died in his throat. What was he supposed to say to that? It was a stupid remark, so naïve and foolish . . .

So true.

Void Gear dropped. Maybe, he should step back and let this happen.

Then he recalled everything he had gone through, all the gambles and sacrifices he had made just to be near her again, and he knew he couldn’t.

Why bother pretending? He wasn’t a good friend. He wasn’t even a good _person_.

Vanitas moved too quickly for even Ventus to react, and grabbed him. With a free hand, he opened up a dark portal.

“Throw her in there,” he said. Terra made a move towards him, but stopped when Vanitas cut into Ventus’s throat.

“Your move,” Vanitas said.


	62. Cold Embrace

It took her a while to wake up and when she did, it was like trying to swim through molasses. With a surge of will, she forced herself past that, hearing a loud crack in her ears as she did so and suddenly, she was fully awake.

Her skin prickled as the sense of _something_ rolled off it. After rubbing her eyes, she looked around, not recognizing anything she looked at. Although, even if she had been here before, there wasn’t much to recognize; caves tended to look the same.

It was raining. The mouth of the cave glistened with moisture, and the outside world was shrouded with a light mist. It was odd because the skies had been clear before – but then again, she had been with Ven and Terra before too. It came back to her: staring down the shaft of Terra’s keyblade. What had he done to her? Where was she now?

Strangely, there was no sign of either Ven or Terra. Someone must have brought her here, of course, but where had they gone? The cave was shallow, and she had searched every inch, so the only other option was outside in the storm. She sighed, picturing Ven huddling under a tree for shelter.

As her name would suggest, she had always had an affinity for water. Thus, it didn’t bother her much to step out into the rain. The water was warm anyways, almost nice. She supposed her friends might not see it that way.

But it was not Ven or Terra she found. She found Vanitas standing in a glade, head pointed towards the sky. Beads of liquid rolled down his glassy helmet to his soaked bodysuit, which she imagined must have been freezing. He turned slightly at her approach, just enough to acknowledge her presence.

“I screwed up,” he said.

“Yes, we’ve been through this.” She tried to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he backed away, hunched as if he was about to take off.

“No, I screwed up again, majorly.” He laughed bitterly. “I couldn’t help it, not after everything . . .”

“Vanitas, what are you talking about?”

“I lost control,” he continued, his hands curling into fists, “now those two are after my blood. Terra is, at least.”

Her breath hitched. “Are they okay?”

“I didn’t do anything more than a simple Cure spell could fix, but that’s not the point. I really screwed up.”

He didn’t back away this time. In fact, he stepped closer. Then, moving so quickly it startled her, he buried his face in her shoulder. His arms wound around her in a damp, cold embrace and though it was unpleasant, she didn’t move, knowing that he needed this.

“I’m a horrible person,” he said. He sounded amused, but she suspected that was not the case.

“You’re not, you’re my friend . . .”

“But that’s just it!” He pulled away from her. “Aqua, we never became friends until _after_ you lost your memories.”


	63. Frost

“We . . . we weren’t friends?”

“No.” Vanitas’s shoulders shook with supressed emotion. “We _hated_ each other. I didn’t even like you when you first woke up without your memories.”

Her mind drifted back to those early days, where he was so cynical and brash, and she had wondered how they became friends in the first place. Now, it all made horrible sense. They hadn’t been friends; he hadn’t been rude because his pride demanded it, he simply hated her.

Was that why he had pushed her away from her friends? To hurt her?

She found herself questioning everything. Was all of this some sort of game to him, some diabolical scheme? Her mouth went dry at the thought. Could it be that (once again, it seemed), everything she knew was a lie?

For several long moments, there was only the sound of rain. She hadn’t minded it before, but now, the drops were icy-cold to the touch. Her skin felt like it could turn into frost in an instance. She shivered, and sought out shelter under a willow tree. Vanitas followed her, but hesitated when it came to standing in the tree’s shadow next to her. He chose instead to remain out in the rain, and there were little pinging sounds as the raindrops collided with his helmet.

Her legs too weak to hold her, she collapsed against the tree trunk, slouching enough that they were at eye-level. She asked a single question.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he said.

There was more. She knew it, he knew it, and she waited for him to finish.

“My intentions . . . weren’t all that great in the beginning.” He spoke quietly, yet she found it easily audible over the rain. “But then I . . . you . . . things changed. _I_ changed. I don’t want this hanging over me anymore.”

She listened silently. What anger existed inside her was washed away by the dejection in his voice, and she exerted no effort to stop it. Truth be told, she was tired of all the uncertainly that plagued them. All she wanted was to move on.

She wanted to move forwards. 

“I forgive you,” she said.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

There was still one thing that made her curious. “Why did you tell me? There was no reason you had to. I never believed Terra and Ven when they said that . . . I wouldn’t have known different.”

“I had to,” he said.

“But why?”

His head tilted to one side as he studied her. “You wouldn’t understand,” he told her, “be grateful for that.”

She didn’t understand those words, but he seemed firm, so she let it go.

Vanitas suddenly said, “I want a clean slate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I . . .” He appeared to be bracing himself. “I want to put all of this behind us, and start over.”

With that final declaration, he reached up and slowly, took his helmet off.


	64. A Moment in Time

Somewhere out there, Aqua’s past was waiting. Somewhere, Ven and Terra lamented their latest loss; somewhere, a mysterious master waited for his lost apprentice; and somewhere, a one-eyed man planned his next move. But for a moment in time, none of that mattered. Nothing, except what was in front of her.

Vanitas looked away, as if ashamed to reveal himself. His spiky black hair, which refused to droop despite the rain, cast shadows on his face, hiding it. But she could see the rounded cheeks that spoke of youth, and that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“You shouldn’t stand in the rain,” she said gently.

His eyes opened as he looked at her. They were bright yellow, almost glowing, and the sight brought forth in her mind snapshots of dark creatures with sharp claws and a lust for blood. But Vanitas’s eyes were different. She saw no cruelty there, but the innocence and vulnerability of a lost child.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. The arrogance he once displayed, the power and pride, it all spoke of someone who had left childhood behind. Yet he was so young, like Ven.

And it was terrible, because in those moments where he had let his guard down and his weariness showed, he seemed to carry a heavier burden than someone of _her_ age should.

He did not join her under the tree on his own, but required her to guide him instead. Once there, he refused to meet her eyes, as if afraid of what he would find there.

“How old are you?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure. It depends on what you mean,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t born; I was created.”

“What? How can someone be created?”

He turned away fully, and she was afraid she’d delved into forbidden territory. But he answered. “My Master . . . _Xehanort_ took a young boy and ripped out the darkness from his heart.” Spreading his hands wide, Vanitas glanced over his shoulder. “And that’s how you have me.”

“So, you were made from someone else’s heart?”

Vanitas smiled, and she could see the pain lacing it. “I’m not even my own person, just a runway slice of someone’s heart. Technically, I don’t even _exist_.”

“If that was true,” she said, “then you wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Don’t be too sure. I wouldn’t be, but my original self could be.”

She wanted to ask him who this mysterious other half of him was, but she had seen the flurry of emotions that had been etched in the lines of his face. He had done a very brave thing in taking his helmet off, but she knew his other half’s identity was even more sacred to him. He wasn’t ready to tell her, and she would respect that.

“What will you do?” she asked.

“We’ll become one again,” he said. “We have to.”

“But what will happen to you?”

He looked up at the sky. “I don’t know.”


	65. Dangerous Territory

Vanitas locked eyes with Terra. Although Vanitas had his mask on, it felt like Terra could see through it with ease, and that Terra was planning exactly how to disfigure him. The heat that shot between them was palpable, and made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Vanitas knew, especially after their last encounter, that Terra would seriously hurt him. He only hoped that the apprentice would control his temper in Aqua’s presence.

“Terra,” she said quietly.

His head snapped around, and Vanitas had the sudden sensation that he was an outsider, that he didn’t exist in this unfolding scene.

“Aqua.” Terra’s voice was deep and rough, like the rumble of a grizzly bear.

He stepped forwards. Aqua backed away, and Vanitas couldn’t blame her. Even though he was not the target, the intensity of Terra’s stare was burning him. Plus, there was something freaky about a stronger, bigger guy suddenly getting way too close.

“What are you doing here?” Aqua asked. “Where’s Ven?”

Despite the good reasons she would have for being suspicious, Aqua somehow managed to ask that in a neutral, genuinely curious way. Yet Terra still stiffened as if she had yelled at him, and Vanitas saw his blue eyes harden.

“Around.” Terra shrugged. His voice became intense again. “You know why I’m here.”

They were straying into dangerous territory. Terra continued to close the distance between him and Aqua, no matter how many hints she gave him to stay away. Seeing Terra tower over her made all of Vanitas’s muscles tense as they anticipated a fight. He swallowed, forcing them to loosen before Terra noticed and things got worse.

“You can’t keep hiding,” Terra said, surprisingly gentle, “the past is going to keep coming after you – Braig’s proof of that. You might as well understand why.”

Vanitas froze. He knew how insecure Aqua’s amnesia made her, how much she dreamed of regaining what she had forgotten.

He knew what she would say.

At Aqua’s agreement, Terra smiled and laughed in relief. “So, it’s over. Let’s go.”

Vanitas said nothing, did nothing as she followed him. For a series of long, terrible moments, he honestly thought that he was alone again. But then she looked back at him, eyes questioning, and hope welling in his chest, he started forwards . . .

Terra, sensing Aqua’s pause, happened to look, and he rushed back. “Stay away from her!” he roared.

“Terra, stop!” Aqua planted herself between them, barring Terra’s path. “He’s my friend!”

“He’s not your friend; he’s a liar.”

She moved closer towards Vanitas. “I’m not abandoning him.”

Terra bowed his head, as if giving up. But then, his chin rose again and in those flaring yellow eyes, Vanitas saw a declaration of war.

Terra shoved her roughly out of the way, his keyblade appearing in the middle of a swing. Vanitas summoned Void Gear, and the two slashed against each other in furious, desperate strikes.

“ _Stop_!” Aqua screamed.

He did.

Terra did not.


	66. Boundaries

Aqua exhaled, supporting Vanitas’s head as she laid him on the ground. It was disturbingly familiar to another time where they had met Terra. This time, however, there was no gaping hole in Vanitas’s side. He looked fine as far as she could tell. But there was no telling what injuries may have been hiding from her; he had taken a nasty blow to his temple, after all.

Her hand moved to the bottom of his helmet, her fingers working their way into the gap between mask and skin. But she caught herself just in time. No, she wouldn’t do that to him. It had taken him great courage to take off his mask, and to reveal him now would be like spitting in his face. But she was really worried that there was blood hiding beneath that mask. At the same time though, she remembered how much pain her light had caused last time, and didn’t want to put him through that if it was unnecessary.

Thankfully, if her light only bothered him because it was so strong . . .

“Heal him,” she demanded of the person behind her.

“Seriously?” Terra huffed like an upset child, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You did this to him,” she snapped. “Now fix it.”

Grumbling, Terra kneeled next to the fallen boy and did as she asked. His green spell did not glow with the brightness that hers did, nor did it possess the dark hue of Vanitas’s Cura. It was a colour in-between, a mixture of both light and darkness, and when Vanitas only squirmed and didn’t scream or thrash, she knew she had made the right choice.

“Okay, he’s fine.” Terra stood up, absently rubbing the cheek where Aqua had whacked him with Rainfell after he knocked out Vanitas. “Now, can we go?”

Acidly, she asked, “What part of ‘I’m not abandoning him’ didn’t you understand?”

“The part where you were serious,” he mumbled.

He yelped as she slapped him on the arm. Taking a wary step back, he said, “Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re defending him. He’s been tormenting you guys ever since we left the Land of Departure; Ven told me that every time Vanitas shows up, he tries to start a fight.”

“That was probably true.” Ignoring Terra’s triumphant noise, she said, “But he’s _changed_.”

“Changed?” he snorted. “Doesn’t seem like it to me. All I see is the same faceless guy causing problems for us yet again.”

Quietly, she said, “I’ve seen his face.”

Terra didn’t seem too impressed. “You snuck into his room?”

“No, he showed me.”

For the first time, Terra was at a loss for words. “So what?” he finally blurted out. “That doesn’t mean he’s a good guy!”

“No, it doesn’t. But everything else he’s done _does_.” She walked up to him, her hand brushing against his lower arm.

She said, “Trust me, please.”

Terra closed his eyes. “He messes up once, crosses any boundaries, and I’ll _destroy_ him.”


	67. Unsettling Revelation

“And you are sure of this?” Master Xehanort asked.

“Pretty sure, yeah. There’s only so many ways to interpret that scene.” Braig still wore that unbalanced grin, one that Xehanort would have thought was mocking him if he did not know the one-eyed man as he did.

Xehanort grunted, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned away from his subordinate. This was an unsettling revelation, for sure, yet not terribly unexpected. Vanitas had been acting strange for some time now, ignoring his Master’s summons and at large, expressing less of a bloodlust for Ventus and the general public. There hadn’t been reports of an unversed attack for days.

“I suppose this would explain why my old friend has seen it fit to contact me.” Xehanort said that with a dangerous edge, smirking as thoughts of hatred and violence flowed through his mind.

Somewhere, there was also a sadness for the brotherhood that had been lost, but it was thoroughly eclipsed by everything else.

“Old Moustache sent you a letter?” Braig asked.

“He has.” Xehanort held up that letter, turning it so that he could see Eraqus’s fancy handwriting. “It appears that he is . . . concerned by my apprentice’s activities, and wishes to discuss them.”

“Really?” Braig scratched his head with the barrel of his gun. “I thought the dude would be ecstatic that the unversed have gone ka-ploof.”

“I suspect that he wishes to speak about Aqua.” He chuckled humourlessly. “It must disturb him that his protégée of light is gravitating towards the purest darkness.”

“Someone should do something about that,” Braig said vaguely. There was a click as he cocked his guns. “Guess it’s time to go hunting for bluebirds!”

“No.” Xehanort held up a hand, and Braig froze. “Tell me again what you observed.”

“Again?” Braig groaned. “Come on, dude, I’ve told you like five times.”

“Again,” Xehanort insisted.

Braig sighed. “Terra, Bluebird and Vani were there. The two boys got into a fight over the girl, and then Terra whipped your little apprentice’s ass.”

“What happened after?”

“Terra was still pretty pissed, but it seems like he’s willing to call a truce for Bluebird.” Braig sneered. “I think the girl’s got some brainwashing powers.”

Xehanort looked back, his yellow eyes focusing completely on Braig. “You said Terra’s eyes changed?”

“Yeah, they went all gold before the dude beat the crap out of Mr. Dark and Scary. But they turned blue again once Aqua smacked him. Anyways,” he stalked closer to Xehanort, a glint of feral glee in his amber eye, “shooting time?”

Xehanort simply said, “No.”

“What?” Braig exclaimed. “Why not? You said it yourself: the girl’s not of any use to us.”

“That was before,” Xehanort said. “Now, things have changed. She will have a role to play.”

Braig rolled his eye. “Great, now I can’t kill any of them.”

Xehanort ignored the gunman’s grumblings. “She _will_ die,” Braig’s eye lit up at that, “but it will not be at your hands.”


	68. Shattered

Vanitas slunk out of his portal, crouched so low to the ground that he might have been crawling. He didn’t usually walk that way, but this world was so damn bright that he could almost feel it burn his dark heart. Plus, Eraqus was lurking around here somewhere, and there was no way Vanitas wanted to be caught by that light-obsessed nut.

He shivered. If Eraqus were to find out that he was spending all his time with Aqua . . . not only would Eraqus probably tell Xehanort, but Vanitas had a feeling the old Master would react worse than Terra. Terra was a grouchy bear, but Eraqus would be like a lion defending its cub. Not something he was looking forward to.

What he wanted to know was why Xehanort had summoned him here in the first place. He had been firm that Vanitas was not to be seen by Eraqus, even going so far as to bar Vanitas from accompanying him to the Exam. Not that Vanitas was complaining, but he didn’t understand why Xehanort would put him at risk now.

He crept into the castle, following the pull of his Master’s summons. The two men were situated in the throne room, and it was telling how only Eraqus was seated.

Eraqus was saying, “I find it hard to believe that this could be happening without your knowledge, Xehanort.”

Behind his mask, Vanitas grinned. Oh, this looked good.

Xehanort said, “My apprentice has always been secretive and independent. I find it a waste of valuable time to track his every move.”

“That may be,” Eraqus affirmed, “but you are still his Master, Xehanort. You understand him best. So, I implore you to tell me why it is that your apprentice is trying to steal away mine?”

The grin disappeared as his mouth dropped open. No, Eraqus couldn’t be . . . this had to be a mistake. Xehanort was _right there_ , Eraqus couldn’t . . .

“I am not sure why my apprentice is so interested in Master Aqua,” Xehanort said, “but I assure you, Eraqus, I will speak to him.”

Time stopped. Vanitas reeled back, the floor moving under his feet. Xehanort _knew_. After all his precautions and close calls, it had been _Eraqus_ who gave it away. _Why_? he wanted to shout. His body felt cold and brittle, like it would crumble completely with a single blow. What was he going to do now?

He fled, hiding himself in the darkest corner of the world until Xehanort summoned him again. Knowing there was no point in delaying, he obeyed, emerging stiffly in front of his Master.

 “Shall we get straight to business?” Xehanort asked. “It is time you stop deceiving this poor girl; this illusion of friendship she holds needs to be _shattered_.”

“Why?”

Xehanort didn’t answer that, but said, “Either you obey my commands, or I will take the initiative and ensure that she dies painfully and slowly.”

Xehanort smiled. “What is your decision?”


	69. Bitter Silence

Contrary to her expectations, it was not a bitter silence that fell between her and Terra. It was just uncomfortable, confused. Terra continued to vent his frustrations by grinding his keyblade into the dirt, reducing the ground to powder. Aqua watched him quietly, a little disturbed at how she could read his every emotion just by looking at him.

“I guess asking if we should run away before he gets back isn’t an option, huh?” he said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and he groaned, “Yeah, thought so.”

“Where do you think he went, anyways?” she asked. She was still a little shocked by his sudden disappearance.”

“Probably to fulfill the next stage in his evil plan,” Terra said darkly.

He continued to grind his keyblade into the earth, and so, didn’t notice as Aqua snuck up on him. She smacked him in the back of the head, not as hard as she had before, and he shied away, holding an arm up to defend himself.

“Will you give it a rest?” she snapped.

“It’s not just me,” he complained. “Even Master Xehanort says he’s evil!”

Xehanort? That was a new name. Unlike Terra and Ven’s names, she felt no kinship towards this one. Instead, much like encountering the green-skinned witch and Braig, it made her proverbial hackles rise.

“Xehanort, you know, Vanitas’s Master?” Terra drank in her perplexed expression, and then said, “Right, you forgot everything.”

While Vanitas hadn’t told her outright that he had a Master, it certainly made sense. He had hinted T it often enough, usually in the context of how he thought Masters were useless and they would be better off without them. She supposed his ingrained hate toward Masters had been why he had failed to tell her about his, and why he had acted so hostile the first time she mentioned hers.

“Who is Xehanort?” she asked.

Terra rubbed the back of his neck. “This really old bald guy. He’s . . .”

Terra trailed off, focusing on a point over her shoulder. She looked back to see the dark form of Vanitas emerge from a portal, his keyblade dragging along the ground.

“You’re back already?” she said. “Where did you go?”

Vanitas didn’t answer.

She frowned. “Vanitas, is everything okay?”

She took a step, and Vanitas seemed to flinch. For her, that was confirmation that something was dreadfully wrong. Upon trying to take another step, Terra caught her by the shoulder.

“Something’s wrong,” he said.

“I know. I’ll go talk to him.”

She walked towards Vanitas, who finally responded by stalking closer. There was . . . something wrong in the way he moved, but she shook the unease off.

They were a second away from each other when Terra shouted, “Aqua, get behind me!”

She blinked. “What?”

Behind her, Vanitas stirred.

“ _No_!” Upon seeing what was happening, Terra ran forwards, his keyblade thrumming in his hand.

He was too slow to stop Vanitas from tackling her into a portal.


	70. The True You

 On the ground after Vanitas’s assault, Aqua groaned, rubbing her head. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “I’d just convinced Terra to give you a chance!”

The seconds ticked by in silence, and the tension between them grew unbearable. Softly, uncertainly, Aqua said, “Vanitas?”

He laughed.

It was a frightening, derisive sound that made his entire body tremble, and she flinched. What was he doing? She tried to stand, but stopped when she found herself faced with the teeth of Vanitas’s keyblade. The keyblade shook violently, but Vanitas made no move to lower it.

“I know you did,” he hissed, “and that ruined everything.”

His keyblade flared black, and she jerked backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“It was working so well,” he said, “and then you went and _fixed_ it. You weren’t supposed to do that!”

Though her common sense told her not to, that she didn’t want to know the answer, she couldn’t help but ask why.

In a flash, he grabbed her by the collar, and nearly smashed her face into his helmet. “Don’t you get it?” After a couple of deep breath, he continued in a softer voice. “You were the _bait_.”

The word cracked through the air like the snap of a whip. Aqua stared at him in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was this a joke? After everything, how could he mean that?

Around them, unversed took shape, prowling in a circle that steadily grew smaller. Her head whipped from side to side, her body growing stiffer the closer they got. The unversed had never been graceful, but the twitchy, random way they were moving now seemed unhinged.

“You were a good pet,” he purred. It felt like he was trying to cup her cheek, but his hand was clumsy and missed. “But clearly, I gave your leash too much slack.”

She pulled out of his grip, scrambling to her feet as the unversed hissed. She summoned Rainfell, but part of her wasn’t sure _who_ the unversed were hissing at.

“You were using me?”

Vanitas spread his hands wide in a way that was almost apologetic. “Your friends were right, Aqua. I needed you to hurt them, and I’ll admit, you were much more helpful in that regard than I expected. Be proud of yourself.”

The unversed crowded in further, and Aqua could feel them. They brushed against her legs, only to jump away. Blinking back tears, she whispered, “This is the true you?”

He nodded, and she could picture his grin.

“I don’t believe it.”

“No?” He stepped back. “How about now?”

The dark Firaga came at her just as the unversed pounced. She was knocked to the ground, with unversed dying on top of her as Vanitas’s spell struck them. Unsteadily, she stood again, Rainfell ready.

In the end, she was thankful that he wore a mask; the inhumanness of it made it easier to fight him.

(It also stopped her from seeing the pain on _his_ face).


	71. Pretence

She jumped at the sudden noise. Heart pounding and her stomach feeling like it was going to leap out of her throat, she raised her head slowly. She didn’t want to move too quickly and set off whomever might be watching. A few moments passed and then the noise, the mournful hoot of an owl, came again. She closed her eyes, focusing on the pattern of her breathing as she willed her heart to slow.

It was okay. She was safe.

She curled up, knees drawn tight to her chest for warmth. The rocky ground was cold and uncomfortable, but she was exhausted and needed sleep. Unfortunately, what she needed was not what she was getting. She was too nervous that he was just waiting for her to sleep.

In the brief part of her life that she remembered, she had spent most of it being hunted; by Braig, by Ven and Terra, there had been an uncanny amount of people after her. But for the most part, she had always had help. Against Braig, there had been Ven and Vanitas; against Ven and Terra, Vanitas. And even if she had been alone, none of them were as terrifying as Vanitas. He could teleport, appear and disappear at will; create monsters whose destruction only made more; he had manipulated her from day one, and yet still convinced her to place her absolute trust in him.

And in return?

Her mind flipped through her memories of them. Upon reviewing her earliest, it was a wonder that she hadn’t mistrusted him earlier. But as time had gone on, it made more sense; she was a sucker for sad stories.

She wished that was all it was, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think that. Even from this new angle, there were things that simply didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t he stopped at getting her to trust him? She had never demanded much of him, but he’d offered it anyways. Why would he tell her about the origin of the monsters, or _show her his face_? All of that could be easily used against him, and it didn’t seem like the pragmatic Vanitas to place himself at risk like that.

More importantly, why had he decided to end his pretence now?

It wouldn’t have been too hard for Vanitas to twist things into his favour again. Terra had a temper, that was for sure, and all Vanitas had to do was to give him a little push. Terra would have flown into a rage, Aqua would have sided with Vanitas, and it would have been over. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had chosen to betray her and essentially wreck his entire scheme.

 _It made no sense_.

There was something going on, something he wasn’t telling her. Some circumstance beyond the two of them had twisted his arm, and Aqua was determined to get to the bottom of it.

She only hoped that her gut instinct was right, and he wouldn’t kill her first.


	72. Patience

Like a hawk, Vanitas balanced on a tree branch, the moonlight outlining the smooth curve of his helmet. She had taken forever to fall asleep - not that he could blame her. It wouldn’t surprise him if, on some subconscious level, she had sensed his presence nearby.

Not that it mattered too much. After spending his entire existence waiting to become one with Ventus again, he had more than enough patience for this.

A flood clung to his back as he leapt off the branch and landed as lightly as a cat. At the impact, the small unversed fell off, rolling to its feet afterwards and sniffing around in Aqua’s general direction. Before it could wake her, he snatched it up, clutching the blue flood to his chest the way a child would hold a teddy bear.

He stepped closer, studying her untroubled face. It might be the last time he was able to see her like this. From here on out, there would be no more peace between them. He had to take every negative part of their history and strangle her with it, until she let whatever remained of their friendship crumble.

Xehanort’s orders were clear: hurt her, break her heart, make her bleed if the chance arrived. But do _not_ kill her.

It was the last one that shocked him. Xehanort was rarely kind to anyone he perceived as an obstacle.  Even Vanitas knew that he, to some extent, was expendable. For Xehanort to declare Aqua safe was unbelievable. The only other two people with that status was Ventus and Terra, and considering what he planned to do with the two, the fact that Aqua was now included in that category was chilling.

Unless, of course, this was to be his reward. Xehanort, although cruel and horrible, was not completely heartless. Perhaps this was him offering an olive branch, his way of saying ‘Return to being my loyal subject, and your precious Aqua can live.’ Vanitas didn’t know what Xehanort had in store for her, but he clung to that idea.

He ignored the fact that Xehanort was a great liar.

The flood stirred in his grip, twisting around so that it could fix its beady red eyes on Aqua. He held it closer, stroking its head as he mentally ordered it to stay quiet. If she woke up and found him here . . . everything would be ruined.

But he was not ready to leave yet. Xehanort’s discovery of their friendship had come about so fast, that Vanitas hadn’t had any time to think, to have closure.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the air, and the breeze seemed to carry his words far beyond the two of them.

He reached up to his neck, unclasped the chain there, and closed his eyes. There was no use in trying to delay the inevitable anymore.

He kneeled down next to her. Carefully, gently, he laid the Wayfinder beside her head.

And then he disappeared into the darkness.


	73. Midnight

_“I’m sorry . . .”_

She woke up with that whisper in her ears. The sun was bright and shining, and the contrast with the events of the precious day was so jarring that she honestly thought it had been one horrible nightmare.  She thought, for one moment, that Vanitas hadn’t betrayed her, and she had made some sort of peace with the brown-haired warrior that kept pursuing her. The latter was still true, but as she looked around and saw that she was alone in the woods, she realized that the former was not. It hadn’t been a dream.

The heat of the sun traced her back, but she still felt icy cold. Her spine ached from her night on the bare ground, adding to her pain from a queasy stomach that seemed a blink away from heaving. She suspected that it had nothing to do with being ill, but rather with the uncontrollable storm of her sorrow. Whether that was better than being sick, she didn’t know.

Sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, Aqua stared up at the sky. “Terra . . . Ven . . .” she murmured. She closed her eyes, yearning to be with the two that were true, the ones that had tried to watch out for her no matter how many times she rejected them.

She buried her head in her hands, turning it a little to the side when it became too muggy to breathe. It was then that she saw it: a glimmer of light on a blue surface. She reached out for it, too distracted to look closely.

Her hand closed around it, recognizing it before her mind did.

Aqua held up the Wayfinder to the light, her mouth dropping open in awe. It was _beautiful_. Blue as the brightest ocean and as warm as a flame, it positively seared her soul. Her heart leapt with joy at the sight, begging her to claim it.

With shaking hands, she summoned Rainfell, and clipped the formerly lost Wayfinder to her keyblade. Rainfell hummed in contentment, sending a wave of warmth through her body. Her Wayfinder . . . she had it _back_.

With that thought, she could no longer hold back the tears.

When emotions had calmed and she had cried herself out, she could think clearly again. Surely, if the Wayfinder had appeared while she was asleep, someone must have dropped next to her during the long space between midnight and dawn. There was only one person she could think of who would be prowling around at that time, and would do such a thing: Vanitas.

Had he had it all along? Her stomach twisted even more. Another betrayal. But again, just as she had the previous day, she asked herself why he had done it. If she meant as little to him as he claimed, why would he bother?

She held the Wayfinder to her chest, whispering, “Please, guide me.”

In her hands, the Wayfinder glowed.


	74. Shadows

Did she find him, or did he find her?  It was difficult to tell and frankly, didn’t matter. All that did matter was they were facing each other, neither appearing sure how to react.

Vanitas recovered first. With a snap of his fingers, he was wreathed in deep shadows.  They extended from his body like a cobra’s hood, sharpening into claws near his hands. He didn’t look like a human anymore, but like a heartless, with the same yellow eyes that pierced the gloom despite the fact that his helmet was probably still on. In all truth, he looked like a monster.

She wondered who he was trying to fool: her, or himself.

“You’re not scaring me,” she said defiantly.

The shadow that was Vanitas cocked its head to one side. The darkness seemed to retreat a little, crawling back into Vanitas’s skin.

“This isn’t you” she said. “Vanitas, please, just tell me what’s going on.”

She held her hand out. “Let me help.”

Vanitas studied her outstretched hand. She smiled, hoping with all her might.

It wasn’t enough.

The darkness flared violently, driving her back. One arm held up to shield her eyes, she squinted at Vanitas, her spirits falling at the danger she sensed there.

“Are you still going on about that?” he asked. “Get over it, Aqua. This is who I am!”

“That’s not true!” she cried. “I know that!”

He laughed coldly. “You know _nothing_ ,” he sneered. “Until I came along, you didn’t even know your own name.”

She swallowed dryly. This was not going well at all. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Because I’ve grown tired of you.” He stepped closer, seeming surprised that she held her ground. “Just be thankful that I didn’t just kill you.”

“And why didn’t you?” she challenged.

He shrugged. “Too many complications,” he claimed.

Vanitas was so dismissive and at ease with his words, that it was hard not to believe him. But Aqua managed it, repeating to herself all the reasons she had to think differently. She gripped the Wayfinder tight in her pocket, and considered her next move.

“If you would excuse me,” Vanitas said, “I have more important things to do.”

“Like what?”

He laughed again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He sauntered off, the excess darkness dispersing into the air around him. So confident was his gait, so relaxed, that she knew that he expected her to just stand there.

Naturally, she didn’t.

He spun around when she grabbed his shoulder, Void Gear appearing in his hands with a flash of light. The teeth of the keyblade swung towards her neck, stopping an inch before it would have killed her.

Silence.

Aqua whispered, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

She could hear him breathing. It seemed, at first, that he was on the brink of breaking down, but then his grip tightened on his keyblade.

She leapt away just in time.

“Good try,” he said. “Now, let me show you how wrong you really are.”


	75. Summer Haze

She grimaced as her shield bore the weight of Vanitas’s spell. The barrier thrummed like a vibrating gong, making the hairs on her skin stand on end. The spell held, however, and Vanitas was forced to find a different tactic. His keyblade radiating darkness, he ran up to her, bringing Void Gear down in an attempt to cleave the barrier in two.

It worked, but only because Aqua had already released the spell. She had leapt backwards, safely out of range, and switched to the offensive now. The first fireball caught Vanitas’s side, the second he ducked beneath.

Combined with the summer haze, the bright sun meant that both participants in the fight were covered in sweat. Her hair was damp, plastered to her face, and Rainfell felt like it would slide out of her hands at any given moment. She wondered how much worse it must have been for Vanitas with his dark suit.

But he demonstrated no signs of fatigue, and came after her without a pause. He swung low, at her legs, but only sliced through air as she cartwheeled out of the way. For a second he hesitated, as if the strange dodge had completely baffled him.

Crouched low, panting, Aqua waited for him to attack.

“Look at you,” Vanitas said, almost fondly, “you’re exhausted. Do yourself a favour and give up already!”

“What will happen if I do?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I’ll be gentle.”

She bit her lip, not sure what he was saying. The Vanitas that she knew would have meant that he would let her leave; however, the Vanitas that he _wanted_ to be would have meant that he would stick with his earlier vow, and hurt her. It was safer, she decided, to simply reject the offer.

“No.”

“No?” Vanitas’s tone revealed surprise. “Why not?”

She straightened up as the burn in her lungs faded. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s really going on!”

“Oh, Aqua.” Vanitas shook his head. “How much does it take for you to come out of denial?”

“You’re the one in denial, not me!”

Part of her hoped that he wouldn’t react in time to her Blizzard spell, and that he would be frozen in place and forced to speak to her. But the rational part of her knew that Vanitas would never be chained so easily, and he dodged, just as she expected. The ground around them, once lush and green, became spotted with scorch marks as their battle raged on. Light and darkness smashed against each other, and sparks flew as their keyblades met.

There was no clear end in sight, and the more they fought, the angrier Vanitas appeared to become.

So, she gave him one final test.

When he sprung at her, she did nothing.

He knocked her to the ground, ending up straddling her waist with his keyblade pointed at her chest. Rainfell was nearby, but she made no move to retrieve it.

“You win,” she whispered. “Now what?”


	76. Memories

He couldn’t breathe.

His ribs tightened in his chest, crushing his lungs underneath. His heart was not better off, and spikes of fiery pain accompanied each beat. He had his keyblade held up and ready, but he knew that to her, it was about as threatening as a dull twig.

And as much as he tried to pretend otherwise, she was right.

He forced himself to gulp down air, panting with the exertion. Below him, Aqua watched, judged. He was so close to losing everything.  .  .

Memories flooded his mind. Memories of them, together: the long journey to mutual acceptance; every triumph and hurdle along the way; Xehanort’s final threat. What may have been a scream or a moan ripped from him, and he clawed at his helmet with his free hand.

Her soft touch paralyzed him, filled him with fear.

“Vanitas, look at me.”

He stiffened . . . he _couldn’t_ . . . but he couldn’t resist as Aqua’s hand guided his chin.

She was staring at him, so trusting, and he could read there that he was ruining everything he had strived for.

“Just tell me why,” she whispered.

With a throat that was clogged with emotion, he croaked out, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

_Because he’ll hurt me; because he’ll kill you; because he’ll torture you first and make me help._

He said, “It’s none of your business.”

He had his helmet between her and his skin, but he could feel her hand on his cheek anyways. “It’s hurting you,” she said quietly, “so it will _always_ be my business.”

Though he tried not to move, he leaned into her touch anyways. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again to find himself staring at Aqua’s Wayfinder. Wincing, he recalled why he had returned it in the first place:

 _“Either you obey my commands, or I will take the initiative and ensure that she dies_ painfully _and_ slowly _.”_

 _She belongs with Ventus and Terra_ , he told himself, _she doesn’t belong with_ you _. She needs to go back to the light._

With that final vow, he gathered the darkness in his palm. Aqua noticed. She glanced at it and then him, asking, “Vanitas?”

He lashed out, striking with just enough force to knock her unconscious.

Leaning over her, his entire body shook, gasping for breath as if he had just recovered from a bout of puking. It was painful, too painful to look at her, and he leapt to his feet, tearing his helmet off. Hands in his hair, he drank in the cool air greedily.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to supress the burning. Now what? Aqua would follow him. She wouldn’t listen to his pleads for her to stay away, but continue to place herself in the direct path of Xehanort’s rage. He needed someone to look out for her, someone as invested as keeping her away from him as he was.

He laughed. Finally, Terra would have some use.


	77. Change in the Weather

The grey sky rumbled above, lighting up with a distant flash of lightning. Reflexively, Terra shivered. It wasn’t so much the lightning and thunder that bothered him as it was the thought of rain. Unlike Aqua and Ven, who both seemed at ease with their signature elements no matter the case, the only weather Terra liked was the bright, sunny kind. Of course, he would walk through a hurricane for his friends if he had to, but he would really prefer it if he didn’t have to.

Naturally, the storm would probably break anyways. Such a violent change in the weather would fit perfectly with the horrible events that had previously transpired. Aqua was lost again, alone somewhere with that . . . _maniac_. Terra gritted his teeth as he recalled exactly how Vanitas had snatched her away from under his nose.

 _How could I have been so weak?_ he thought viciously. This only proved that he had been right about Vanitas; he should have listened to his instincts there and chased the masked boy far, far away from her. Instead, he’d been naïve and ignored his common sense.

 _Never again_ , he vowed. He’d witnessed Vanitas betray them – how much more proof did he need? This time, no matter how hard Aqua or Ven pleaded, he wasn’t going to fall for Vanitas’s ruse.

No, this time, he was going to rescue his friend, and tear the masked boy apart _limb by limb_.

A silver streak passed overhead. The source of the streak turned abruptly, homing in on Terra before plunging into a steep dive. Ven, covered in his armour, leapt from his glider and landed in front of Terra. After quickly dismissing the armour, the younger boy breathlessly said, “I saw them!”

“You did?” Terra grabbed Ven’s shoulders. “Where? Did he see you?”

Ven shook his head. “I don’t think so. He was just dragging Aqua out of a portal when I found them . . .”

At the word ‘dragging’, Terra heard nothing else. Dragging? Why would he be dragging her, unless . . .

His heart skipped a beat, and then sped up into a frantic pace that pounded in his ears like a drum of war. Red coloured the edges of his vision, giving everything a crimson stain.

“Where?” Terra repeated, his voice frightening even to his own ears.

Nervously, Ven pointed to the right.

The undergrowth was thick and cluttered, but Terra got through it just fine. That which he didn’t trample or shove aside, he _burned_. Leaving a trail of destruction behind him, he ran blindly.

Eventually, after the Wayfinder twitched in his pocket and gave him the right direction, he found them. Aqua was unconscious on the ground, defenseless. But what really infuriated him was that Vanitas was looming above her.

It made no difference to him that Vanitas showed no signs of moving, that he appeared to be waiting. All that mattered was that his keyblade was pointed at her heart.

Terra charged.


	78. Illogical

While Vanitas considered himself many things – mostly wonderful and superior to everything that moved –he most certainly did not consider himself an idiot. The second he saw that Terra had found him, he took off. He took a moment to cackle madly, just to ensure that there was no way Aqua would change Terra’s opinion of him,  and then fled into a portal, Terra’s threats echoing in his ears.

The darkness spat him out onto a beach. It appalled him, at first, that his subconscious would lead him to such a happy place. But as time went by and he bore witness to the swaying of the palm trees and the cool touch of the waves around his ankles, he found his disgust draining away. Sure, this place reeked of light, but there was something soothing about it as well, something peaceful.

He frowned. Part of him almost felt like he had been here before. . .

Of course, that idea was ridiculous, but everything he’d done seemed to be illogical lately. Something about Aqua had destroyed the rational, pragmatic side of him and now he was throwing himself in the way of Xehanort’s keyblade just so she could stay safe.

Nothing he did made sense anymore. He could barely think straight, let alone figure out which of his choices were spurred by passion rather than intellect. He smirked. It must have frustrated Xehanort to watch his loyal, cunning apprentice turn into an emotional wreck. Or maybe it amused him. You never knew with Xehanort.

He stiffened, hearing laughter. Though two children playing on the beach were far from a threat, he backed away anyways, hiding in the shadow of a palm tree. Without much else to do, he watched them, and part of him ached as he did so. Those kids, they looked so carefree, so _happy_. Although he knew the last bit was beyond him now, he yearned for that kind of peace. But he couldn’t relax; he was the cat standing in the middle of the fence, with a vicious dog jumping at each side. If he let his guard down, made one false move, he would tumble off the fence right into their jaws.

And as fleet-footed as he was, Vanitas knew he would fall eventually.

He couldn’t stand in the middle forever.

He wandered away from the beach, and into a small cove he found behind a waterfall. Xehanort, or Aqua? The choice should be obvious, shouldn’t it? Xehanort had trained him, made him strong and gave him a future. Plus, he was the most dangerous. All Aqua had to offer was kind words.

Then why did he balk at choosing his Master?

The sharp claws of his emotions tore at him whenever he tried, and he knew what choice the unversed favoured. His own mind seemed to be working against him, refusing to let him take the route he knew he should.

 He whispered into the air, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”


	79. Only Human

Aqua stirred. Her head aching, she tried to change her position. At once, a hand, powerful and yet kind, closed on her shoulder. It did not frighten her as it should have, but made her grow still instead.

Her eyes opened slowly. The light blinded her for an instant, but then faded to reveal the faces of her two friends. Terra was first, upside-down in her field of vision. She could tell just by the size that it was his hand that had grabbed her shoulder. That hand now moved up to her head, readjusting it. She realized with a jolt that her head was lying on his legs.

Ven was there, too. His big blue eyes peered down at her, worry expressed clearly in their depths. Cautiously, as if afraid she would bite, he held out a finger and waved it back and forth in front of her eyes. He leapt back with a squeak when Aqua lazily swatted at it.

Terra helped her sit up, making sure she got her balance before speaking. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“My head hurts,” she told him, “but I’ve been worse.”

She saw a muscle in Terra’s jaw jump. Next to him, Ven suddenly took to glaring at the surrounding woods.

She spoke carefully, not wanting to set off Terra. “Where did Vanitas go?”

“He’s gone,” Terra said brusquely. “He fled the second he saw us coming.”

“You mean when he saw you coming.” Ven pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t even wait for me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t!” Terra snapped. “She would have been dead if I hadn’t gotten there when I had.”

Before Ven could argue back, Aqua cut in. “Wait, _dead_?”

The intensity in Terra’s stare made her squirm. “He was standing over you while you were unconscious, getting ready to stab you.”

Despite her earlier decision not to make Terra freak out, she couldn’t stop the protest from slipping from her lips. “That can’t be right!” She shook her head frantically. “Vanitas wouldn’t do that.”

In a low growl, Terra said, “There’s no way I misinterpreted what I saw.”

While Aqua struggled to think of a response, Ven reached over and touched her upper arm. “Aqua,” he said, “I know you want to help him, but you’re only human. You can’t change him.”

“But I _did_ ,” she insisted.

Ven shrugged. “Maybe you did, or maybe he just let you think that.”

Seeing the crushed look on her face, Terra suddenly stood up. “Let’s stop talking about this,” he said, “and figure out what we’re going to do now.”

For a second, no one spoke, and then Ven shyly raised his head. “I’m really hungry,” he said.

“Fine, we’ll find something to eat.” Terra ruffled Ven’s hair. He glanced at her. “Are you coming?”

She smiled, surprised that he was giving her a choice. “I am.”

She fell into step with them and in their pockets, the three Wayfinders glowed.


	80. A Place to Belong

Seated at the round table, Ven rested his head on the metal. In his eyes was the reflection of a half-eaten stack of waffles. Covered in whipped cream and syrup, there were a few strawberries on the stack that made him lick his lips, and staring up at Aqua, he asked, “Are you going to finish that?”

Aqua glanced at his pleading face, and sighed. In all honestly, she’d spent the last few minutes picking at it. When she nodded her head, Ven grinned and particularly leapt across the table to grab her plate, hunching over it possessively as he brought it back to his spot.

He smacked his lips. As Ven rubbed his hands together, Aqua could see in his expression that he was planning the best (and by best she meant messiest) possible way to eat his new meal. But before he could put said plan into action, Terra leaned over and stabbed the stack with his fork. Ven could only watch in horror as Terra ate it in a few bites.

“That was good.” He began to wipe his mouth, pausing when he saw Ven staring. “What? You were too slow.”

“Teeerrraaa!”  

She giggled at Ven’s pout, which only deepened when she ruffled his hair. She couldn’t help it; he was adorable! Terra smiled, clearly pleased with how the day was going, and then turned his ravenous hunger onto his meal’s scraps.

Still pouting, Ven suddenly turned to her and said, “You two are taking me for ice-cream, right?”

She blinked. “What?”

Terra bumped Ven in the shoulder, and the smaller boy immediately coloured, mumbling “Sorry.”

Terra hastened to explain. “Me and you usually went out for ice-cream whenever we were in this neighbourhood. We promised Ven we’d take him one day.”

“And that day’s today, right?”

Aqua glanced at Terra, who nodded.

Ven leapt up. “Let’s go get it now!”

He tried to tug Terra along with him, but the eldest apprentice just sat there like a rock. If he hadn’t happened to be looking at Ven, Aqua wasn’t sure if Terra would have even noticed.

“I still have to pay,” Terra said. “You two go ahead.”

“Okay,” Aqua said, “but where are we going?”

Terra quickly gave them directions and sent them off. Although Ven had apparently ever been here before, he must have had a sixth sense for ice-cream, as he spent most of the trip in the lead.

After buying three bars, they sat down and waited for Terra. Ven, basking in the sight of his, said to her, “Finally, I get to have one of those adventures you two kept talking about. I can’t believe the Master made me stay home so much.”

Quietly, she said, “I don’t remember much about home.”

Ven frowned. “Oh.” He brightened up again, grinning. “But it doesn’t matter what you remember; you’ll always have a place to belong: with us!”

She smiled and gave him a one-armed hug.

And then he got ice-cream in her hair.


	81. Advantage

The soft chirps of insects accompanied them as they traveled the long road out of town. It was Terra who had directed them here, having declared that they needed to maintain secrecy and protect the ‘Order of the Multiverse’ or something. She had no idea what he was talking about, nor did she understand these gliders he kept referring to. This time, the two boys seemed to expect that, and they waved her along without an explanation.

Although it was Terra who was guiding them and shouting out directions for them to follow, he was in the back of the party. His pace quickened and waned in accordance to theirs, never allowing her or Ven to fall behind him. It was curious, and a small, distrustful part of her wondered if Terra was making sure she didn’t change her mind and flee. However, when she took the chance to glance back, she saw that he was checking behind them. So, yes, Terra was making sure that she didn’t stray out of his field of vision, but only to make sure that no one could get the jump on her.

The protective gesture was kind of sweet. It seemed to be wearing on him though, so she fell back and started walking beside him. Terra looked at her questioningly, but smiled when she did.

At virtually the same second, Ven looked over his shoulder. Upon seeing his friends together, he immediately rushed back, using his small size to his advantage by inserting himself between them. There, he looped an arm through either of theirs, connecting them.

They stayed that way until they reached a spot Terra deemed suitable. “First step to using a glider,” he said, detaching from the other two, “summon your armour.”

Aqua blinked. “My armour?”

“Yes,” He gestured to the metal piece on her shoulder, “your armour.”

When she continued to stare at him in confusion, Ven sighed and slammed down on the metal piece. Light exploded in front of her eyes, and then faded to reveal that nothing had changed.

That’s what she thought until she looked at herself.

She was covered in sleek, silver metal. It hugged her body perfectly, and possessed little weight even when she moved. Experimentally, she opened and closed her hand, marvelling at the sight.

“Okay,” Terra said, stretching the word. “Now, transform your keyblade by . . .”

Terra looked over at Ven. “Ven, how do I explain this?”

“Beats me,” Ven said. “I figured it out accidentally.”

“Oh, uh, you can just ride with me, then.”

She jumped as he and Ven summoned their armour at the same time. This time, when the light faded, they held strange objects in their hands. This must have been the gliders that they were talking about; they looked as though they were meant to be airborne.

Terra helped her on, and then the three of them shot into the sky.

“Where are we going?” she asked amidst the roaring wind.

“Home,” he said.


	82. Breakfast

“Come on, Master, don’t look at us like that. We didn’t take that long!” Ven said. “We would have been faster, but we stopped for breakfast.”

The man Ven called Master, an old, noble figure with a scarred face, raised a black eyebrow as he looked at Terra. Sheepishly, Terra rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled, “They were hungry.”

When the Master’s mouth opened, both Terra and Ven cringed. However, it was far from a rebuke that he gave them. “I am not angry,” the Master said, “simply surprised that this mission took so much time.”

Terra sighed in relief.

“Now, Aqua, do you know who I am?”

It took her a few seconds to find the name that fit. “M-master Eraqus?”

Eraqus smiled warmly. “Did you remember that on your own?”

She shook her head. “Vanitas talked about you before.”

At the mention of _that_ name, a tense cloud settled over them. The smile disappeared from Eraqus’s eyes, and although she couldn’t see them, she could feel Ven and Terra grow rigid.

“Vanitas.” Eraqus said the word carefully, as if worried it would come to life and bite him. “Aqua, do you know what he wanted with you?”

Did she? Vanitas had told her so many conflicting stories that it was hard to determine which were true. She knew that Ven, and especially Terra, thought they understood what Vanitas was using her for, but she still couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

Just as she expected, when she shook her head, Terra spoke up. “He was using her to get to me and Ven,” Terra said. “It worked.”

Eraqus laid his hand on Terra’s shoulder, breaking the eldest apprentice out of his sudden fit of loathing. “The past cannot be changed. Let it be,” he said. “What matters now is that this can be resolved.”

“Yes, Master,” Terra said, a glimmer of pride in his voice.

Eraqus turned his back on them, walking towards the room’s only door. “Terra,” he said, “this was not the mission I sent you out on. However, this new mission of yours was a clear success, and dare I say, perhaps of even more importance than my original charge.”

Something passed between the two, and when Terra spoke, it was with barely supressed excitement. “Master, do you mean it?”

“We will speak more of this afterwards,” Eraqus answered cryptically.

Eraqus reached out for the door, slowly opening it inwards. A bearded man, even older than the Master, entered the room, his eyes fixing on Aqua.

“Aqua,” Eraqus said, “this is my friend, Master Yen Sid.”

She shook his hand with trepidation. It wasn’t that he frightened her, but just that lately, her first meeting with strangers didn’t tend to go very well.

“Pleased to meet you,” Aqua said.

Eraqus silently waved Terra and Ven out of the room, and casting one last look at her, they obeyed.

“Well, Aqua,” Yen Sid began, “are you ready to regain that which you have lost?”


	83. Echoes

Aqua laid there, not speaking, not moving, just watching. Memories danced in front of her eyes, as quick and fleeting as a group of shy ghosts. She remembered; she remembered _everything_. But it was an awful lot to take in at once, and she knew it would be some time before she could truly make sense of it all.

“Is . . . is she okay?” Ven asked. Next to him, Terra waited in a silent vigil.

“She is not harmed,” Yen Sid said, “merely exhausted. To embrace a life’s worth of memories in one sitting is a draining task.”

“But she’ll get better, right?”

Eraqus patted his worried apprentice on the back. “She will be fine, Ventus, but we should give her some time to recover.”

“But I want to stay here!”

“Master’s right,” Terra said, “we should give her some space.”

Aqua didn’t look at them as they left; she only knew they were gone when she heard the click of the door.

A lifetime’s worth of memories . . . how long would it take for them to fully integrate with her? She knew things that she couldn’t have possibly known with her amnesia – like that the first time she and Terra had gone to another world, he spent the majority of the trip hiding behind her from an older girl who thought he was ‘cute’. She knew that, but she couldn’t actually remember the experience. Surely, it was there somewhere, but was swamped by the hundreds of other memories that begged her to look at them first.

The pure number of things racing through her mind made her restless. She got to her feet, and walked around the castle. It wasn’t long before she decided that hadn’t been the best idea. Everywhere she looked, she saw echoes of times past. Illusions of Ven and Terra, in a variety of age and sizes, followed her, their voices overlapping each other.

Eventually, she wandered outside the castle, where there seemed to be less triggers for her memories. There wasn’t complete peace – she could see a younger Terra and Ven having a snowball fight to her left – but it was better than what it had been before. She wandered out further, finally settling down on the bank of a river.  She was glad to see that at least, her own reflection didn’t prompt a deluge.

For the next little while, she simply watched the ghosts of Terra and Ven. With each event they played out, she felt herself grow a little more complete. The storm inside her mind quieted, content.

Then another figure arrived on the scene, and Aqua stood, summoning Rainfell.

She was certain Vanitas wasn’t an echo.

They stood on opposite sides of the river. The fake Terra and Ven disappeared with a pop, leaving her mind clear. On one hand, Vanitas was her friend, but . . .

_“You freak!”_

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“To kill you,” he said quietly.

Vanitas drew his keyblade.


	84. Falling

_He knew just by the way he walked that what Xehanort had to say wasn’t good. Vanitas stood rigidly at attention, awaiting the words that would condemn him._

_“Aqua has returned to her home,” his Master said, “and Yen Sid has departed his world. In a matter of hours, she will be a threat to our plans – one that cannot be ignored. It is time, Vanitas.”_

_Vanitas was still, but inside, he was reeling. He felt disconnected from his body as it automatically summoned a portal, felt like he was floating as he walked towards the darkness._

_“Vanitas . . .”_

_He looked back._

_Xehanort stared at him. “I’m sorry.”_

_Vanitas blinked, stunned by those two simple words. Xehanort . . ._ cared _? Something warm welled up inside him, and . . ._

He shook that memory off. Now was not the time.

Across the river, Aqua frowned, clearly in denial over his answer. Her eyes suddenly focused on a point behind him, and he turned to find nothing. That was odd.

The current tugged at his bodysuit as he stepped into the river. As he took another step forwards, Aqua took one back, finally recognizing the danger. Yet despite that, Rainfell was still held slack at her side.

“V-Vanitas?”

He looked at her, _really_ looked at her. His eyes traced the curve of her face, saw where every strand of her hair fell; he needed to burn this image into the deepest parts of his memory.  

He needed something to hold onto when this was over.

Aqua was slow to react, but she finally did, pushing her keyblade against his. He laughed bitterly: oh, hadn’t he prepared for this moment? He remembered watching her train, learning all her tricks and secrets, and weeding out her weak spots. Now, all of that was coming to fruition, and it was one of the most terrible things he had ever had to endure.

Aqua was unfocused the entire battle, not quite there. Eventually, he yanked the keyblade out of her hands, and one blast of darkness sent her falling back. He pinned her with a foot on her chest, and pointed his blazing keyblade at her head. Anger, resent, _grief_ threatened to drag him under, and he trembled with the effort of silencing them.

She stared up at him with big, pleading eyes, and he squeezed his own shut, unable to look.

His emotions peaked, tearing him apart-

He screamed as the unversed’s claws tore through his suit. Clutching at his chest, he stumbled away, staring incredulously at the unversed that snarled at him. It hunched over Aqua, sheltering her, protecting her.

And that’s when Vanitas let Void Gear drop.

“Aqua!” That was Terra’s voice.

Vanitas did nothing. He understood now. He would never be capable of ending her.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Terra charging, and welcomed it. He . . . he had nothing now.

Terra swung.

Vanitas closed his eyes.

“ _No!_ ”

Blood splattered the ground.


	85. Picking up the Pieces

Wind rustled the leaves in the trees, dislodging some that gently floated downwards to land in the gurgling river. A tiny shadow darkened the ground as a bird flew above their heads. All around them, life continued at its frenzied pace, untroubled.

But for them, time had stopped.

Terra stood slack-jawed, dropping his keyblade as the consequences of his actions finally sunk in. Aqua had a similar expression, though hers was tinged with something else. The two of them stared at each other, speaking silently in the small lapse that this merciful pause in time allowed

And then someone hit ‘Play’, and Aqua collapsed.

“ _Aqua!_ ” Vanitas ran forwards, too slow to actually catch her. By the time he got there, she was already on the ground, hyperventilating as she struggled to force air into her lungs. Her eyes were wild with terror, and even though he could see her lips moving, she seemed incapable of speech. Blood continued to pour from the gash that Terra’s keyblade had inflicted, one with such an angle that it could have literally torn out her heart.

Something tugged at him, pulling him away, and he reacted with a snarl, lashing out at this invisible force. He only spared it a moment’s thought before he was back at Aqua’s side, his hands radiating a dark aura as his magic desperately tried to pick up the pieces of her broken body.

Why would she . . . ? _Why . . ._? Never mind the fact that this had been his original purpose, this wasn’t supposed to happen! That attack was meant for him, and why would she . . .?

Her eyelids started to drift close, and he shook her by the shoulders. “No, you got to stay awake. Hey, did you hear me? No sleeping!”

His shout finally snapped Terra out of his stupor. “Aqua?”

Terra spoke brokenly, like a frightened child, but Vanitas could only see the man who had struck her down. He panicked, following the tug and dragged her backwards into a portal, while unversed flung themselves at Terra to buy him time.

He paid no attention to where he emerged, only that the journey seemed to have worsen Aqua’s condition. “No, you’re not dying on me,” he muttered. “Just stay with me, Aqua. _Please_!”

Her head lolled to one side as she made the effort to look at him, and what he saw in her eyes was terrifying.

His hand shook as he cast his spells. With his other hand, he grabbed that hand’s wrist, seeking to quell the violent shaking. Somewhere far away, Terra destroyed his unversed, and Vanitas hissed in pain. But the time to lick his wounds was not now, not when Aqua was dying _right in front of him_.

So busy was he with his task, that he didn’t notice footsteps behind him. He didn’t notice anything, until a man cleared his throat.

Vanitas hesitated, and then looked up into the eyes of his Master.


	86. Gunshot

For the longest time, they stared at each other silently, Xehanort clearly awaiting an explanation. This was not another one of their power struggles – quite the opposite, actually. Vanitas was simply too scared to speak. He was hunched over Aqua like a wolf guarding its injured pack-brother, and there was no way he would be able to explain this.

So he waited for Xehanort’s patience to wane. Fear made his senses sharp, alerting him to Xehanort’s every twitch, and magnifying his small sigh a hundredfold.

Vanitas thought he could hear the floundering beat of Aqua’s heart.

“That wound does not look as if it came from your weapon,” Xehanort said.

Vanitas held his gaze for a second before looking away.

“You were too weak,” Xehanort said. “Your heart stopped you.”

Vanitas dug his heels into the ground, and braced himself.

But instead of punishing him, or summoning some other being to do it for him, Xehanort did something else.

He smiled.

Vanitas’s fear was replaced by shock and without his consent, the words tumbled out. “It was Terra,” he said, “Terra tried to attack me and . . .”

“And she protected you.” He didn’t think it was possible, but Xehanort’s smile grew sharper. “I know.”

“How?” Vanitas asked. Had Xehanort been watching? Had he expected Vanitas to falter, or been concerned that Vanitas would be torn apart first?

Xehanort said, “Because that was the plan.”

Vanitas’s blood ran cold.

Now, it was Xehanort’s turn to explain. “You may have established yourself as an enemy in Terra’s eyes, but never in hers. No matter how hard you tried, she never did quite let go of you. Such an enigma, the heart. . . ” Xehanort turned his back to Vanitas, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “From it stems the greatest power, and yet it is that same passion that brings the strongest warriors to their knees.”

Xehanort turned around suddenly, much faster than someone his age should have been able to. “And through that I will claim my new body. We will carry her corpse to the Keyblade Graveyard, and once Terra has seen it – once he realizes that it was his keyblade that stole her life – his rage will cast him into the deepest darkness.”

Xehanort closed his fists, as if already claiming his prize. “Then victory shall be inevitable.”

Vanitas had listened to all of this with a heart that kept growing colder and colder. All of this had just been to secure Xehanort’s vessel. Even the apology, Vanitas understood now, was merely a tool to ensure that he would carry out this last task.

The embers of rage took root in his heart, and as Xehanort’s words repeated in his head, they began to smoulder. Xehanort did not notice, saying, “Finish her. Be it with a knife, a gunshot or the darkness, I do not care.”

Vanitas stood. “No.”

A beat of silence.

“What did you say?” Xehanort asked quietly.

“I said **_no!_** ”

And something inside him snapped.


	87. Possession

A black mist rose into the air, dark and thick like the aftermath of a firestorm. With slow, measured steps, Xehanort walked between the heaps of dying unversed, each of whom was leaking its own dark cloud. One of them, split open from shoulder to tail, raised its head, fangs bared. With a quick flick of his wrist, Xehanort drove his keyblade through the creature’s skull, and it hissed feebly before its body collapsed and became nothing more than mist.

Nearby, on his knees, slumped over on the ground, Vanitas groaned. He was no stranger to pain; every time the unversed were destroyed – which was often – he felt it as keenly as they did. But never had so many of them been slain so swiftly, so brutally.

Xehanort blocked his desperate swing, his Master’s cold expression never changing. Almost carelessly, Xehanort swung and tossed Vanitas through the air, where he rolled to a stop on his stomach just a foot away from Aqua.

“Did you truly believe that you could defeat me?” Xehanort asked dangerously.

Vanitas said nothing, looking away from Xehanort. It was an action that just happened to make his eyes settle on Aqua. Her breathing was growing shallow, and he reached –

Only to scream as Xehanort incinerated a pile of unversed.

“Answer me.”

Vanitas gritted his teeth. “No!”

“Good.” Xehanort continued walking towards them. “You will have the pleasure of hearing her beg for her death. Now, stand aside.”

 _No._ He struggled to stand. Vanitas could see that he wouldn’t win, but he knew he couldn’t just obey. Not this time.

Xehanort’s keyblade flared. It was entirely for intimidation, and it worked. Vanitas cringed; he couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t’ win . . .

He looked back at the girl depending on him.

Maybe he didn’t have to.

“The unversed,” he whispered, “are an extension of my emotions. Every one you destroy returns to me.”

Xehanort frowned, recognizing the skeleton of the speech Vanitas had prepared for his final encounter with Ventus.

The unversed returned, the same ones from last time, but they looked different, meaner. One took possession of Aqua, dragging her towards a portal. Xehanort took a step towards her, and the unversed pounced.

Again, they were destroyed, and Vanitas was brought to his knees. But when Xehanort tried to reach Aqua, the unversed reappeared, barring his way.

“You can’t hurt her,” Vanitas gasped. “I. . . I won’t let you.”

“You will not wear me down, Vanitas,” Xehanort said. “You will destroy yourself first.”

He glanced back. The unversed dragging Aqua was halfway inside the portal, he just needed _time_. “I don’t care,” he said.

He snapped his fingers, and the unversed answered. And he was lost in a sea of pain as the unversed continued in their cycle of death and resurrection. Unconsciousness tugged at his mind, but he fought it off until the unversed told him that she was safe.

 _Aqua_ . . .

His eyes shut.

_. . . Thank you._


	88. Twilight

It wasn’t exactly a void he was in, but something similar. There really wasn’t much difference; he could tell without looking that the universe around him was blank. He could sense that he was the only one here, that even the unversed had failed to follow, yet it didn’t bother him. It was almost soothing . . . comforting? He wasn’t sure what the right word was.

Something was waiting for him, he simply knew that. But there was no urgency; if he wanted, he could float forever. It made no difference in the grand scheme of things. Time had no meaning here.

He opened his eyes. There was a pinprick of light below him, and he willed himself to go to it. He was falling through the great expanse of space, arms stretched out as if he were flying.

The small dot of light grew bigger, changing in hue as he approached. Hours may have passed, or maybe seconds, but then he could see the full circle of the Station of Awakening. He automatically spun around without trying, so that his feet, and not his head, hit the ground.

_O Warrior of darkness . . ._

He turned to find two open doors before him. Beyond one lay the X-Blade and Kingdom Hearts; beyond the other was simply darkness.

_Hast thou chosen?_

“Yes,” he said, understanding exactly what the mysterious voice wanted. He walked up to the door with the X-Blade, staring at the future he and his Master had craved for so long. . .

And in one decisive move, he reached out and closed the door.

_Take thine blade . . ._

He stepped back, and lifted Void Gear. With a steady arm, he pointed the keyblade at the door. A beam of purple light connected them, and with an echoing click, the door was locked.

Forever.

For a while, he simply stared at the locked door, at the future he had chosen to deny. But he was roused out of his thoughts by a rumble that made his bones vibrate. It originated from the circle that contained Xehanort’s face, and cautiously, unsure of what he would find, Vanitas approached it. The face was horribly battered, chipping, and when Vanitas poked it with his keyblade, broke into pieces that rose and disappeared into the air.

The lost pieces revealed another person’s face, which quickly took over the place where Xehanort used to be. Vanitas stared, considering. Then he smiled, unsurprised; of course if anyone would be here, it would be _her._

He went back to the second door, the one with only darkness. This was his choice, but he had no idea what he had chosen.

“What lies beyond here?” he asked.

_The road of twilight connects to many others, but whether thou will stay on this path, or end up on another . . . I cannot see._

Vanitas nodded, understanding. Gathering his courage, he stepped through the doorway.

Maybe, now, he’d finally discover his destiny.


	89. Nowhere and Nothing

Mickey wrung his hands together as he stared up into space. The stars continued to twinkle, scattered across the sky as if a jeweller had spilt his wares. They were beautiful, but not what the young king was looking at. No, he was searching for any sign of his Master’s return.

He nervously looked back at the form on the bed, still unsure if bringing that person here was the right choice. The person was injured, unconscious and needed help, but after everything Mickey had seen . . .

He shook off his doubts. This had been the right choice; his heart told him so.

A couple of brooms suddenly dashed out of the room and taking his cue, Mickey followed. He raced down the winding steps to the bottom level as below, he heard the great doors to the tower creak open. At the base of the stairs, he skidded to a stop, nearly losing his balance and stumbling straight into the old wizard.

“Master Yen Sid!”

Yen Sid nodded. “Mickey. Is something the matter?”

“Well, err, yeah, there is.” Mickey rubbed the back of his head as his doubts returned. “Gosh, this is hard to explain.”

Yen Sid suddenly stiffened. “There is another presence in this tower.”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you. I couldn’t just leave him there, Master, he would have been killed . . .”

“Who, Mickey?”

Mickey winced. “Xehanort’s apprentice.”

Yen Sid swept past him and with a squawk, Mickey followed, continuing to explain.

“His Master . . . Xehanort was killing him! I had to do something!”

“You did not engage Xehanort, did you?” Yen Sid asked.

“Golly, no! I came in on my keyblade glider, grabbed him and ran!”

“That was probably the wisest plan,” Yen Sid admitted, and Mickey sighed in relief.

Mickey half-expected Vanitas to be gone when they entered the room. It appeared, though, that Vanitas had yet to regain consciousness. He was completely limp on the bed, with his mask reflecting the harsh lights of the room. Scratching his chin, Yen Sid studied him before turning away.

“Is he going to be alright?” Mickey asked.

“His injuries are not ones that can be seen,” Yen Sid said. “I am afraid my magic is useless in this situation.”

“Oh.” Mickey’s ears drooped. “So, what now?”

“We wait to see if he will wake,” Yen Sid said simply, “then the rest is up to him.”

“Are you sure, Master? I mean, he’s _evil_ , are you sure we should just let him go?”

Yen Sid smiled. “Evil? I suppose that is how many see him.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “What do you see, Master?”

“I see a lost boy, with nowhere and nothing binding him to this life. Or, that is how it used to be. Things have changed, Mickey. Vanitas is ready to carve his own path.”

Mickey nodded, staring thoughtfully at the boy in question. Together, Master and apprentice waited for the boy to awaken.

If he would.


	90. Answers

Vanitas sat on the bed with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. This was it. Xehanort’s secrets would be no more; he would take everything he knew and lay it out for the two Masters to hear.

It still made him extremely nervous. Xehanort was not a forgiving person; if he heard even a whisper of what Vanitas was about to do, he wouldn’t rest until Vanitas’s blood had been splattered across the multiverse. Vanitas grimaced, rubbing his side as the memory of his recent fight with Xehanort returned. Thankfully, that had been just pain, and not actual wounds. Even then, Xehanort had not wanted to kill him, but certainly, after this, things would change.

The door to Vanitas’s room swung open. Still looking at his fellow Master, Eraqus had yet to notice the young boy. “And just why have you summoned . . . ?”

He trailed off, and Vanitas knew he had finally been noticed.

Almost too quickly to be seen, Eraqus summoned his keyblade, and raised it in the beginning of a charge. Yen Sid, who was much stronger than he appeared, held him back, a stern frown on his face.

“Why are you sheltering him?” Eraqus snapped. “The only place he belongs is in the darkness from whence he came!”

Vanitas cringed. Yes, Xehanort wasn’t very forgiving, but neither was Eraqus – and Vanitas had done plenty of things to earn that man’s ire.

“Calm yourself,” Yen Sid said, “I did not bring you here to destroy this boy, but so that we could get answers.”

“What answers do we need?” Eraqus said. “Terra has told me everything.”

“Terra doesn’t have the whole story,” Vanitas scoffed.

“Terra knows that even Xehanort says a creature like you should not exist.”

Vanitas bristled at the label, but fought to keep his emotions under control. So, in as sweet a voice as he could muster, Vanitas asked, “Did Terra tell you about the part where Xehanort takes over his body?”

There was a long pause.

Eraqus blinked. “What?”

“Oh, yeah!” Vanitas fell forwards onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands. “Xehanort’s grown tired of being old, so he’s decided to take a new body. And he thinks Terra would be the perfect host.”

Vanitas took a grim pleasure in the expressions on their faces. Those two Masters had thought they had known everything that was going on, that Xehanort was their _friend_. Well, he would blow that right out of the water.

He continued, “That’s, of course, after he forces Ventus to form the X-Blade, and kills you and Aqua.”

“X-Blade?” Yen Sid repeated.

Eraqus just stared at Vanitas, an unknown emotion flickering in his eyes. “How do I know you are not lying?”

Yen Sid sighed. “Eraqus . . .”

“What reason do I have to believe him over –”

He was interrupted by a crash.

Vanitas had thrown his helmet to the ground.

“He’ll kill her,” he said hoarsely, “you have to believe me. _Please_.”


	91. Innocence

“Easy does it,” Terra murmured.

With one hand closed around her arm and the other supporting her back, Terra helped Aqua as she sat up. Finding her footing, she tried to stand, only to fall back as a wave of dizziness hit her. Terra’s chest cushioned her fall, and gently, he eased her back onto the bed.

“Hey, take it slow,” he told her.

She gave him a wry smile. “Guess I won’t just bounce back from this, huh?”

Ven, who had been watching intensely from over the back of a chair, decided to make his opinion known. “You’re going to be fine,” he said. “Yen Sid’s a great wizard!”

“I know,” she said. “I trust his magic.”

Terra cut in as Aqua made a move to stand again. “But that’s no reason for you to push yourself,” he blurted, pushing her back down sternly. “Your body needs time to recover.”

“Yeah,” Ven agreed, nodding his head, “you were pretty bad before.”

She didn’t fail to notice how Terra’s eyes slid away from her. She squirmed, uncomfortable with the sudden tension. It wasn’t really Terra’s fault, not in her mind, at least; he’d only been trying to protect her.

“Hey!” Ven leapfrogged over his chair. “You can’t leave the castle today, but me and Terra could bring you back ice cream after our mission!”

She reached over and ruffled his hair. “That would be wonderful.”

Terra said, “Okay, I need to go talk to the Master. Aqua, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m _fine_ , Terra,” she said, with the tone of someone forced to repeat themselves many times over.

“Just checking,” he said before he left.

That left her and Ven. Absently, she picked at the bandages wrapped all around her sides. Over her entire midsection, she had been wrapped like a mummy.  Apparently, the wound had originally been even bigger than that, but Yen Sid’s magic had closed it.

“Ven,” she asked quietly, “what exactly happened?”

“We were all outside looking for you,” Ven said, “and then out of nowhere, this portal opened up and an unversed dragged you out with its teeth.”

“An unversed?” she repeated hoarsely. “What did it do?”

“Not much,” Ven admitted. “Master destroyed it before we could blink.”

A frown tugged at the corner of his lips, but quickly vanished as Ven schooled his face into an impassive mask. Though she too kept her face blank, inside, she was smiling. Certainly, Terra and the Master would have assumed the worst upon seeing the unversed with her. Ven, however, still had that childish innocence, one that left his heart and mind open to everyone.

And that meant, since she wasn’t sure when she would see Vanitas again, he was the one she had to ask.

“Why?”

Ven stared down at his hands. “It didn’t feel like it was trying to hurt you . . .”

He looked up at her. “Aqua, he really has changed, hasn’t he?”

She said nothing, but knew he understood her.


	92. Simplicity

Terra stood outside Eraqus’s office, fighting the urge to go back and check on his friends. Part of him was expecting Vanitas to magically appear and attack his friends, and his head ached with the strain of listening for an ambush.

He raised his hand to knock, and just as his knuckles grazed the wood, the Master said, “You may enter, Terra.”

Terra blinked in surprise, and then entered.

Eraqus was seated at his desk, his back to Terra as he stared out the wide window overlooking the courtyard. Although to Terra, his face was hidden, the apprentice had the distinct sense that Eraqus wasn’t looking at anything in particular. The armour Eraqus wore during his travels had been dismissed; however, Master Keeper was still present, propped up against the desk.

“How is she?” Eraqus asked.

“She seems fine, Master. If you want, Ven and I could probably go on our mission now.”

Eraqus was quiet for a very long time. “I think . . .” he began, “I think it best that we forget about those for a time.”

“No missions?” Honestly, Terra wasn’t complaining; he wanted to stay home where he could keep watch over Ven and oversee Aqua’s recovery. However, the suggestion was strange enough to make him curious. “Does this have to do with what Master Yen Sid wanted?”

Again, Eraqus said nothing. Instead, he turned around, his dark eyes fixing on Terra. The eldest apprentice had the uncanny sense of being pried open, so that his heart and soul were bared for all to see.

“Terra,” Eraqus said “what exactly did Xehanort say to you?”

Terra frowned, noticing the lack of the ‘Master’ prefix, but did not comment. “That Vanitas was a mistake and . . .”

“Not about Vanitas, but everything else.”

He hesitated. Xehanort’s warnings rang in his ears, reminding him of Eraqus’s obsession with destroying the darkness.

“Nothing important,” Terra said.

“Terra,” Eraqus spoke firmly, “no matter how insignificant it seemed, you need to tell me.”

Still, he hesitated. “Master . . .”

“For Aqua and Ven’s sakes, I must know.”

Eraqus always knew what buttons to push. Terra caved, and told him everything. Eraqus listened with a passion, searching for something that Terra couldn’t understand. At the end, the Master slumped back in his chair, eyes closing.

 “So, it is true. Terra, Xehanort means for you to fall into darkness, so that he may possess your body and start anew. It was also Xehanort who had ordered Aqua’s murder.”

“Xehanort?” Terra’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“It was all part of a plan to seize the power of Kingdom Hearts,” Eraqus said.

Terra said, “Then we’re going to stop him, right?”

“In time, but Xehanort is a very intelligent opponent. A plan of such simplicity such as ‘Go out and stop him’ will only end up playing into his hands. We will have to plan our next moves carefully.”

“But we will stop him, right?” Terra demanded.

Eraqus looked at him. “Of course.”


	93. Reality

It took her the entire afternoon, but she finally lost Ven. It wasn’t that she wanted to get rid of him, she just needed to speak to Terra alone. Ever since he had returned from his talk with the Master, he had been acting funny. Something was up, she knew it, he knew that she knew, and Ven probably hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, Terra was not one to flaunt his insecurities, especially when Ven was around. Hence, the need to sneak away from the youngest apprentice.

She cornered Terra in the training grounds, where he was furiously attacking a wretched-looking dummy. He tried to ignore her, but she stood there long enough that eventually, he felt obliged to acknowledge her.

“Don’t even think about summoning your keyblade.”

Okay, so not the most welcoming words, but at least he was talking to her. “I’m not here to train; I wanted to see what was bothering you.”

Terra was still focused on the dummy, rolling his left shoulder as he answered, “What are you talking about?”

She sighed. “Terra, I have my memories back. I can tell when something’s upset you.”

Terra grunted, and let his keyblade fall to his side. His forehead was shiny with sweat when he turned around, and she wondered for how long he had been out here.

“Apparently,” he said, “there’s a price on your head, I make the perfect host, and Ven’s the ultimate key or something. That’s the reality, as according to the Master.”

“Is this . . .?”

Terra cut in, “Xehanort. It’s all his fault.”

She heard betrayal in his voice, along with anger, disbelief and something else she couldn’t recognize. Terra turned and drove his keyblade into the dummy again, his face icy cold.

“I guess that fits with everything I heard,” she didn’t notice Terra perk up with interest, “but how did the Master find out?”

There was a pregnant pause before Terra said that one word. “Vanitas.”

“Vanitas?” she gasped. “He’s . . . he’s turned against Xehanort!”

“So he claims,” Terra said.

“That’s great!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t there a spare room down the hall from Ven? He could stay there while . . .”

“You’re kidding, right?”

She blinked, then stood stiffly, not willing to let Terra’s astonishment sway her. “Terra, I know you don’t like Vanitas, but he’s on our side. He saved me!”

“Maybe he did,” Terra admitted, “but that doesn’t make him a good person. One life doesn’t make up for everything he did.”

“Do you hear yourself?”

Terra shrugged. “I’m only repeating the Master.” In a low voice, he added, “Aqua, the Master said that if Vanitas came here again, I could do whatever was necessary.”

She took a step back, hearing the order for what it was.

Permission to kill.

“Terra . . .”

“I won’t do it,” Terra said, “I learnt my lesson. But Aqua, there’s no way Vanitas will ever be welcome here.”

“What do you think?”

“. . . Honestly, I’m glad.”


	94. Acceptance

Mickey shuffled his feet awkwardly as he stared at Vanitas’s back. Even though Master Yen Sid said that Xehanort’s former apprentice was no longer a threat, Mickey couldn’t help but be unsettled. There was a darkness to the boy, one that threatened to make his fur rise, and Vanitas’s sullen attitude wasn’t helping matters.

He laid Vanitas’s plate down on a small table, then turned around and headed for the door. At the threshold, he paused. Although Mickey couldn’t honestly say he wanted to be here, he felt bad about leaving Vanitas to brood.

“Do you plan on staying long?” Mickey winced as the question escaped him; it wasn’t the friendliest way to open up a conversation.

Seated on his bed, chin on his knees as he stared out the window, Vanitas said, “I don’t really have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

Vanitas turned his head, allowing Mickey to catch glimpse of a smirk. “Eraqus made it clear what would happen if we encountered each other again. If I stay here, we’re bound to.”

“Oh.” Mickey could vividly imagine what Master Eraqus must have sounded like during that ‘discussion’. “So, where will you go?”

Vanitas’s face hardened. “Nowhere,” he said curtly, turning his back to Mickey again.

“But you’ve gotta go somewhere . . .”

He went silent at Vanitas’s laugh. “Is that so?” Vanitas challenged. “Then tell me where? What place would possibly welcome me?”

Vanitas hugged his legs, drawing them tight to his chest. In a low voice, one that Mickey wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear, he murmured, “There’s no place for a demon that’s turned away from evil.”

He waited, but Vanitas said nothing else. Unsure of how to respond, Mickey said nothing too. Vanitas gave no sign of noticing as Mickey inched closer, but he did turn his head, so that all the small king saw was the rounded profile of his face.

Mickey frowned. Vanitas really was a boy –a lost one at that. To see such a young boy entangled in such a web of pain and deceit, it was tragic in too many ways. Vanitas should be like Ven: happy, innocent, free; not burdened with the weight heaped upon him by someone who had only wanted to use him.

“There are sure a lot of stars,” Mickey said. Vanitas didn’t reply, so he continued, “And each one is a different world with all sorts of different people.”

“And?”

“And so you’ve gotta find acceptance somewhere!”

Vanitas chuckled. “Doubt it.”

Mickey said, “Aqua accepted you, didn’t she?”

“That was special.” Vanitas almost sounded like he was growling. “She had no idea who I was . . .”

“Neither do all of them,” Mickey retorted, waving his hand at the billions of souls in the multiverse. “Somewhere, there’s a place where you belong.”

Mickey smiled softly. “Think about it.”

The mouse king left then, granting Vanitas his privacy. The boy was left to stare at the sky, his mind buzzing with possibilities.


	95. Lesson

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I thought the interpretation was fairly literal,” Yen Sid said calmly, seated at his desk as he faced down his fuming friend. “Vanitas has departed for other worlds.”

“And you just allowed it?” Eraqus snapped.

Yen Sid folded his hands. “Certainly. He was no prisoner here; I had no right to detain him.”

Eraqus’s face was slowly turning red. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” he asked fiercely. “You have released this . . . this _creature_ back into the worlds. Make no mistake; in a few days, the multiverse will be reaping the consequences.”

Yen Sid said nothing at first, instead studying the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “I had thought,” he said finally, “that you had learned a lesson from these recent events.”

“What lesson would this be?” Eraqus asked cautiously. Yen Sid had always had a better idea of what forces were currently at work in the multiverse. The old wizard gave off the impression of being all-knowing, a burden from which Eraqus was relieved to be exempt from. In light what he now understood, however, Eraqus found himself wishing for that knowledge, if only so that he could know how to protect his apprentices.

“That we must not allow our emotions to cloud our judgement. Your fear of the darkness is feeding this hatred of Vanitas, just as your old friendship made you blind to Xehanort’s schemes, and Terra’s rage nearly killed Master Aqua.”

Eraqus bristled. “Terra did not try to kill her,” he growled, unwilling to hear anything that would indicate otherwise. He trusted his apprentices with his life, and more. “If anything, it was Aqua’s emotions that led her astray.”

“Yet it was still Terra’s passion that initiated that chain of events. Eraqus, you must keep yours under control.”

“Have you not heard what Xehanort is planning?” Eraqus intensified his sentence by slamming his fist on Yen Sid’s desk. “Should his plans come to fruition, my students will be _dead_!”

Eraqus pulled his hand away, breathing heavily as he did so. The violent rage that had flared through him died as quickly as a candle doused in water, leaving him shocked by its intensity. He wondered now if Terra’s temper had been learnt instead of inherited.

Eraqus was briefly concerned by the strength of his emotions, but only briefly. Righteous pride soon drowned out those worries. The power to do good came from the light, the heart, and his was telling him that Xehanort needed to be stopped, and his students protected.

“If you will not stand with me,” Eraqus said, “then I will stop Xehanort alone.”

“Are you such a fool?” For the first time in a long while, Yen Sid sounded angry. “Do you truly believe I would allow you to face the darkness without aid?”

“Then you are with me?”

“I always have been, my friend. When the time comes, call me. I will answer.”


	96. Enthusiasm

Vanitas ran.

His paws slapped against the earth as the snow tickled his belly. The wind weaved through his black fur, prying away the heat left by the rising sun. At the peak of a gentle hill, the wolf pup stopped, taking in the miles laid out before him.

He was filled with a powerful urge to continue running, but it was not energy or enthusiasm that drove him. No, this need came from something deeper in his being, from that well of instincts that separated man from beast. He took off again, surrendering to the animal inside.

Because frankly, he preferred it that way.

Because for an animal, there was no greater scheme than survival. It was a moment-to-moment existence, where there were no X-blades, or scam piled upon scam, or false mentors using you to find ultimate power. A wild animal never plotted world domination, or how to recreate ancient legends; an animal simply _lived_.

And after everything, now that he was truly free, that was all Vanitas wanted: to live without the burdens of his human life.

He pointed his muzzle towards the sky, and howled. It was a long sound that possessed a melancholy beauty. For a few seconds after he had stopped, he heard it drift across the land, low and haunting. Acting on their own, his ears twitched, following the steps of a mouse that was probably fleeing to its burrow after hearing him. He glanced at the snow, wondering if he should bother to go after it.

He didn't, however, for something far more interesting caught his attention.

Vanitas had never expected his call to be answered, but it was.

It wasn't one howl, but several, much closer than he would have liked. An entire pack, then. Quickly, he turned towards the source, his lips drawn back to display the tips of his fangs.

There was nothing, at first, and then he saw it: a flicker of bright green, like light reflecting off a cat's eyes. So, they were down there, just too well camouflaged for his rather poor eyes to see.

The fur along his spine bristled. The wolf awake inside of Vanitas didn't want to stay. _It's dangerous_ , it told him, _too risky_. But Vanitas pushed those instincts aside, and dug his claws into the ground. He was done with bring scared. Let them come, and do as they may. If he had to, he would defeat them. He was no ordinary wolf, after all.

Despite his bravado, it was still unnerving when they fanned out around him. He crouched close to the ground, the ears on his head flat. Yet they made no move to attack.

He looked up at one, the biggest, and saw the truth in its eyes. Once, this wolf had been Vanitas, frightened and alone.

They spoke not with words, but with whines and contact. Vanitas understood completely. They accepted him.

They wanted him.

And he would answer, once he took care of one last thing.


	97. Game

Ven landed hard on his back, his keyblade clattering to the ground just beyond his head. Panting, he rolled over to his hands and knees, scooped up Wayward Wind and using it as a crutch, stood. A few feet away, Terra waited, the tip of his keyblade resting on the ground.

"Again," the eldest apprentice said.

Ven lunged, swinging his keyblade at Terra's gut, a move which the older boy easily blocked. Terra made no move to counter, just continued to block Ven's strikes as he weaved around him. Finally, with one hard blow, Terra both knocked the keyblade out of Ven's hands and sent him spinning to the ground.

"Ouch!" Ven complained.

"You can't let your guard down like that," Terra said. "Your opponent could strike at any moment."

"Yeah, I know," Ven said, "but you have to admit I'm stronger! Fighting all those unversed was good for me."

Terra's lips thinned. "Again," he demanded, a rough undertone to his voice.

"Just give me a moment." Ven closed his eyes as he laid on the ground, focusing on bringing oxygen into his lungs. "I don't know why I'm so tired; I usually can go longer than this."

Terra said, "I'm hitting you harder than I usually do."

"What?" That brought Ven to his feet. "You were holding back before!"

Terra looked at him like it was the stupidest question ever asked. "Uh, yeah."

Ven pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I bet you never held back on Aqua."

"I didn't have to. She's older than you, stronger . . ." At Ven's calculating look, Terra quietly added, "Plus she yelled at me whenever I did."

Ven smirked.

"Anyways," Terra lifted his keyblade up so that it sat on his shoulder, "let's try again."

Eager for more time to recover, Ven asked. "Why are you going harder on me now?"

"Xehanort and Vanitas won't go easy on you, so I can't."

Ven sighed. "Okay, but can't we just relax? They're not going to attack us . . ."

"We don't know that!" Terra snapped. "Don't you get it? We're just like pieces in a game to them. If they want our pieces to move, then they're going to try and make us!"

"But the Master . . ."

"The Master isn't here, Ven," Terra muttered. "He went to find Xehanort."

"Okay, but you and Aqua are here." Confidently, Ven grinned and said, "Xehanort won't take on two Masters."

"One," Terra corrected.

Ven frowned. "But didn't Master say that . . . he took it away from you again?"

"No." Terra spoke gently, as if speaking any louder would break something precious. "I refused to accept it. Ven, I nearly killed Aqua; how could I accept the title of Master?"

"Oh." Ven struggled to break free of the depressing atmosphere that threatened to smother him. "But next time you'll get it, right?"

Terra smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Right.

Terra got into a battle stance. "Let's go again."


	98. Friendship

Night had come. Above them, thousands of stars twinkled in the sky, brightening and waning in their own secret dance. Nothing could compete with their brilliance, save, perhaps, the three glass charms held out to embrace the starlight.

"How long," Aqua asked, "has it been since the three of us were under the same stars like this?"

Sprawled out with her on the grass, Terra and Ven looked at her. "Not since this all began, I guess," Terra said. "Not for a long time."

Ven was in the middle of them, so when he sat up and spoke, he had to keep looking from side to side. "But we're all together now, aren't we? And that's all that really matters!"

"Of course." She smiled and reached up to ruffle his hair.

Terra lifted his orange Wayfinder off his chest, staring at it as he cradled it lovingly in his palm. "Friends forever," he murmured.

Almost at the same time, as if a telepathic command had been issued, Aqua and Ven had grabbed their own Wayfinders. Now, the three held them to their chest, eyes closed, right over their hearts.

"Friends forever," they echoed.

Terra's steely blue eyes opened, glinting with promise. "And when Xehanort comes, we'll be ready. He can't tear our friendship apart."

"Hear, hear!" Ven cheered, grinning widely. It was Terra's turn to ruffle his hair, an action to which the younger boy yelped at and tried to dodge.

"Xehanort won't defeat us!" Ven claimed, puffing his chest out. "The three of us together . . . we're unstoppable."

"Don't let it get to your head," Aqua warned. "Xehanort won't be easy to beat."

Across Ven's lap, Terra held a finger to his lips, telling her to let the youngest apprentice have his moment.

"But we have _Master_ Aqua." Ven winced as the words left him, and cast an apologetic glance at Terra, who was politely sticking his fingers in his ears. "Hey, couldn't you train us now?"

"You are Master Eraqus' students, not mine."

"But you could still train us, right?"

"I don't know." She looked sideways at Terra, who was now pretending to be asleep. "Would Terra be up for it?"

One eye cracked open. "Well, my ego could never miss an invitation to beat up a Master."

"As if!" she squawked, slapping him on the head as he chuckled.

It was a comfortable, carefree silence they lapsed into as they stared at the sky. Carefree for almost all of them, that is; for Aqua could not help but think of the one friend she had been forced to leave behind. Where was Vanitas now? Would she see him again?

 _I hate to think that this is our end_ , she thought.

Her hand curled around her Wayfinder and she blinked, hit with sudden inspiration.

She had done it once; she could do it again.

_An unbreakable connection . . ._

"I'll be back!" she told them, scrambling to her feet. "There's something I have to do."


	99. Ending

In the shadow of the white castle, under the night’s veil, two figures walked together. One was noticeably taller than the other, and possessed a slight limp; the other hunched slightly, like a prowling wolf.

“Terra would be furious if he heard you were here,” Aqua whispered.

Vanitas chuckled. “Then don’t tell him. Besides, I’ll be out of here soon. I’ve found a new place to stay, on another world. It’s pretty far from here, but you never know where your Master’s missions will carry you.”

She looked into his unmasked face, saw the hope in his eyes, and regretted what she had to do next. But there was no use in encouraging something that couldn’t be done.

“Master’s cancelled all missions,” she told him. “We’re restricted to this world until Xehanort’s been dealt with. Even after that, I don’t think he, or Terra, will let me go out alone . . .”

“Not while I’m still out there.” Vanitas sighed.

She smiled weakly. “They’ll have to, eventually.”

Vanitas’s shoulders slumped. “But you’re not an apprentice, they can’t stop . . . There’s no use asking you to come with me, is there?”

“No,” she said softly, “there isn’t.” Despite everything the two of them had shared, Aqua knew her heart would always belong to Terra and Ven first. She wouldn’t leave the Land of Departure while they were living here.

“Just as well.” Vanitas smiled crookedly. “If I took you away, those two would spend the rest of their lives trying to kill me.”

She winced at the thought, fingers brushing the bandages wrapped around her waist.

Vanitas quickly stepped forwards and across, blocking her path. Purposefully, he faced her, seemingly unaffected by the emotions that threatened to sweep her off her feet.

“Then this is it,” he said. “This is the end.”

She shook her head. “No, this doesn’t have to be our ending. It’s just another beginning.”

She stepped forwards, keeping his gaze as she pressed the charm into his hands. Vanitas blinked, before breaking their mutual stare, staring down at the Wayfinder she gave him. She stood back as he held it up by the chain, letting the red Wayfinder rotate slowly and cast an array of dim light on their feet.

“Somewhere,” she began, “there’s this tree with star-shaped fruit, and the fruit represents an unbreakable connection. I did the best with what I have, but . . .”

He held up a hand to quiet her, and hung the Wayfinder around his neck. “Don’t you dare apologize, or I’ll think you didn’t mean it.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you around.”

He smirked. “Someday.”

They said goodbye, one last time, and then Aqua watched as he stepped onto his glider. He took off into the sky, becoming nothing more than a dot of light amidst the stars. She watched him until her eyes failed her, then, with one final glance, returned to the castle.

Someday, under the stars, they’d meet again.

Her heart knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of the fic. I decided to exclude that one chapter I forgot to put in earlier, because it was mostly filler. Anyways, thanks to everyone who's read this story to its end!


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